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f^c  feifirari?  of 
(Dtinceton  Jgeofogicaf  ^eminarj? 

3R  1725  .ii2  7  £27  io^2 
Eaton,  Anna  R.,  1823- 
A  memorial  of  Rev.  Horace 
Eaton,  D.  D. 


TRIUMPH  IN  CHRIST. 

(2  Cor.  2  :  14.)  X^^^  ^^    ^'^^'' 


[*      DEC  2  8  1911 


A   MEMORIAL 


^^ 


Rev.  HORACE  EATON,  D.D. 


BY 


ANNA   R.   EATON. 


STJirti  lEliitiotu 


BOSTON : 

PUBLISHED   BY    C.   B.   BOTSFORD, 

25  Hawley  St. 

Bold  also  at  the  Offices  of  thk  xVmekican  Tract 

Society:   150  Nassau  St.,  N.Y.  ;   93  State 

St.,  Rochester,  N.Y.  ;  153  Wabash 

Ave.,  Chicago,  III. 

1892. 


ELECTROTYTEn  BY  J.  S.  CUSHING  &  Co.,  BOSTON. 


Pbesswork  by  Berwick  &  Smith,  Boston. 


In  my  husband's  last  prayer  at  the  family  altar,  oifered 
seven  days  before  his  death,  while  sitting  in  his  chair, — 
in  great  feebleness  of  body,  but  with  a  pleading  fervency 
of  spirit, —  he  gave  utterance  to  these  supplications:  — 

"Regard  in  tender  compassion  my  kindred;  may  their 
hearts  and  their  influence  be  wholly  the  Lord's !  Richly 
bless  all  the  dear  people  to  whom  I  have  so  imperfectly 
ministered;  may  no  one  of  them  neglect  or  refuse  the  Great 
Salvation !  " 

In  the  hope  that,  by  bringing  some  of  his  words  to  their 

remembrance,   these   petitions    may   be    answered,    I    have 

compiled  these  pages. 

ANNA  R.   EATON. 
Palmyka,  N.Y. 


COISTTEIN^TS. 


CHAPTER   I. 

1810-1824. 

FACE. 
ANCESTRY.  —  BIRTHPLACE.  —  THE    BOY.  —  HIS   MOTHER 1 

CHAPTER   II. 

I824-I833. 

A  LONG  JOURNEY. ST.  ALBANS,  VT. —  HIS  CONVERSION.  —  DECIDES 

TO   STUDY   FOR   THE    MINISTRY ' 13 

CHAPTER   III. 

I833-I839. 

PHILLIPS   ACADEMY,  ANDOVER,  MASS. —  DARTMOUTH  COLLEGE       .       ,      22 

CHAPTER  IV. 

1839-1849. 

UNION  THEOLOGICAL  SEMINARY,  NEW  YORK.  —  MINISTRY  AT  THE 
SIXTH-STREET  CHURCH,  NEW  YORK.  —  MARRIAGE. — LAST  ILL- 
NESS  OF    HIS    MOTHER 48 

CHAPTER   V. 

First   Ten   Years  in  Palmyra. 
1849-1859. 

SETTLEMENT.  —  FIRST     DEATH     IN     HIS     FAMILY.  —  REVIVALS.  — 

INTEREST   IN   MISSIONS 61 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Second  Decade  in  Palmyra. 
1859-1869. 

THE   WAR.  —  DAYS   OF   AFFLICTION.  —  LIFE,  A   SCHOOL.  —  LITERARY 

LABORS.  —  LECTURE  ON  TREES.  —  ARTICLES  FOR  THE  PRESS  .      .      91 


VI  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  VII. 

Last  Ten   Years  of  the  Pastorate  at  Palmyra. 

TWENTY-FIFTH  AXXIVERSARY  OF  SETTLEMENT  IN  PALMYRA. — 
TRAVELS  IN  THE  EAST.  —  LECTURE,  INFLUENCE  OF  MOHAM- 
MEDANISM   UPON    EDUCATION.  —  LETTERS 126 

CHAPTER   Till. 

PASTORAL  LABORS.— now  HE  MADE  SERMONS.  —  HIS  STUDY.  —  USE 
OF  ANALOGIES.  —  MUSINGS  ON  THE  RAILROAD.  —  IMPROVEMENT 
OF  CURRENT  EVENTS  AND  PROVIDENCES. — WHEAT-HARVEST. — 
INTRODUCTION  OF  GAS.  —  THE  EIGHTH  COMMANDMENT.  —  THE 
ORGAN.  —  NEW  year's  SERMON,  THE  CLOCK.  —  FRAME-AVORK  OF 
EXTEMPORE  SERMON.  —  FACETIOUSNESS.  —  PREACHING  TO  CHIL- 
DREN.—  PRAYE«FULNESS.  —  "TRIUMPH  IN  CHRIST"        ....    191 

CHAPTER    IX. 

JOURNEY  TO  ENGLAND  AND  IRELAND.  —  "FIRST  NIGHT  AT  SEA."  — 
RESIGNATION.  —  CLOSING  SERMON  AS  PASTOR.  —  THOUGHTS  FOR 
THE  AGED.  —  CHARGE  TO  THE  PEOPLE  AT  ORDINATION  AND 
INSTALLATION  OF  HIS  SUCCESSOR. — LAST  FOUR  YEARS  AND  A 
HALF  OF  LIFE.  —  LABORS  AT  MARION,  N.Y. — LIGHT  AT  EVEN- 
ING   TIME.  —  LETTERS 232 

CHAPTER   X. 

DEATH.  —  BURIAL.  —  FUNERAL    SERMON.  —  ADDRESSES 2G2 

N 

CHAPTER   XI. 

MEMORIAL     SERVICE     AT     MARION.  —  MEMORIAL      SERVICE     IX     THE 

SABBATH-SCHOOL    AT    PALMYRA 281 

CHAPTER   XII. 

EXTRACTS  FROM  LETTERS. —  PRESS  NOTICES.  —  RESOLUTIONS. — 
MURAL  TABLET. ANNIVERSARY  ELEGY,   "BESIDE  HIS  GRAVE," 

OCT.  24,  1884 291 


CHAPTER  L 
1810-1824. 

ANCESTRY.  —  BIRTHPLACE.  —  THE   BOY.  —  HIS   MOTHER. 

The  subject  of  this  sketch  left  no  autobiography;  but  from  his  fire- 
side conversations,  his  letters,  journals,  and  an  occasional  sermon  to 
the  young  people  of  his  parish,  delivered  after  some  visit  to  his  native 
State,  we  have  gleaned  much  concerning  his  early  life. 

Horace  Eaton  was  born  on  the  7th  of  October,  1810,  in  Sutton,  Merri- 
mack County,  N.H.     His  parents  were  John  and  Mary  Kimball  Eaton. 

We  find  in  one  of  his  papers  the  following  reference  to  his  ancestry 
and  birthplace  :  — 

As  I  learned  from  my  mother,  it  is  probable  that  the 
Eatons  came  from  England  to  Haverhill,  Mass.  My  great- 
great-grandfather  was  attacked  by  the  Indians  on  his  own 
farm  in  Haverhill,  March  15,  1697.  His  wife  escaped  to  a 
swamp,  where  she  took  cold,  and  soon  died,  leaving  an 
infant  son,  one  week  old,  named  James.  This  James  Eaton 
was  my  great-grandfather.^ 

My  grandfather,  Nathaniel  Eaton,  served  from  the  begin- 
ning to  the  end  of  the  Revolutionary  War.  He  was  at 
the  head  of  a  company  at  the  battle  of  Bunker  Hill,  but  did 

1  Dr.  Eaton  was  accustomed  to  recall  the  fact  that  his  ancestors  shared 
the  perils  generally  known  to  the  public  as  exclusively  borne  by  the  Dustan 
family.  He  rehearsed  the  account  substantially  as  follows :"  The  Eaton 
homestead  joined  that  of  Mr.  Tliomas  Dustan.  The  Indians  made  n  simul- 
taneous raid  upon  both  families.  They  captured  Mrs.  Dustan  and  her  infant 
child,  born  on  the  same  day  as  was  James  Eaton,  my  great-grandfather. 
They  daslied  out  the  brains  of  Mrs.  Dustan's  babe  upon  an  apple-tree  grow- 
ing on  our  farm.  On  their  way  to  Canada  tliey  stopped  at  night  on  an 
island  in  Concord,  N.H.  Here  Mrs.  Dustan  killed  ten  of  tlie  Indians.  But 
one  escaped.  She  bore  their  scalps  back  to  Haverhill,  and  was  generously 
rewarded  by  the  Legislature  of  Massachusetts. 

"  "When  the  Indians  first  assaulted  his  family,  Mr.  Dustan  was  in  the  field. 
He  seized  his  gun,  mounted  his  horse,  and,  thinking  it  impossible  to  rescue 
but  one  child,  determined  to  save  the  one  he  loved  best.     But  the  father's 


55  REV,    HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

not  receive  a  commission  until  General  Washington  reached 
Boston.  One  day  mj  grandfather's  captain  became  secretly 
alarmed  lest  a  bloody  engagement  was  about  to  take  place. 
He  represented  himself  as  very  anxious  in  regard  to  his  saw- 
mill at  liome,  and  desired  the  commander-in-chief  to  give  him 
leave  of  absence  for  a  few  days.  General  Washington,  no 
doubt  acting  on  the  principle  of  an  ancient  warrior, — 
"  Whosoever  is  fearful  and  afraid,  let  him  return,  and  depart 
early  from  Mount  Gilead," — gave  him  the  desired  furlough. 
As  he  did  so,  my  grandfather  overheard  Washington's  remark, 
'■'- Captain  S.,  I  have  a  great  deal  more  to  attend  to  at  my  home 
than  you"  The  commission  of  the  cowardly  officer  was 
forthwith  handed  over  to  my  grandfather. 

Some  ninety  miles  from  Boston,  up  the  valley  of  the 
Merrimack,  you  come  to.  a  mountain,  the  summit  of  which 
commands  a  view  of  nearly  the  entire  State,  —  Kearsarye, 
from  which  the  ironclad  steamer,  victorious  over  the 
"Alabama,"  was  named.  Over  eleven  hundred  feet  above 
the  level  of  the  sea,  on  the  southerly  spur  of  this  moun- 
tain, is  an  old  square  mansion,  built  by  my  forefathers 
more  than  a  hundred  years  ago.  There  six  generations  of 
my  kindred  have  lived  and  died. 

On  tlie  morning  of  his  seventy-third  birthday,  just  two  weeks  before 
his  death,  he  said  :  — 

heart  forbade  a  choice.  By  repeated  shots  lie  kept  the  foe  at  bay  until 
they  all  reached  the  garrison." 

"  And  from  those  dear  ones  make  thy  choice  : 
The  group  he  wildly  eyed, 
When  '  Father ! '  burst  from  every  side, 

And  '  Child ! '  his  heart  replied. 

****** 

"And  firmer  still  he  drew  his  breath, 

And  sterner  flashed  his  eye, 

As  fast  he  hurled  the  leaden  death. 

Still  shouting,  'Chihhvn,  fly!' 

"  In  vain  the  foe,  those  fiends  unchained, 
Like  famished  tigers  chafe  : 
The  sheltered  roof  is  neared,  is  gained. 
All,  all  the  dear  ones  safe  !  " 


THE  BOY.  6 

When  I  came  into  this  world,  seventy-three  years  ago 
to-day,  I  do  not  suppose  I  was  wliolly  a  welcome  visitor. 
Some  of  the  relatives  thought  Molly's  family  quite  large 
enough  before  I,  the  twelfth,  was  ushered  into  it.  But  my 
widowed  mother  clung  to  me,  her  youngest  child,  with  fond 
but  wise  devotion. 

From  his  journal :  — 

Ausfust,  1875.  I  have  been  back  to  look  into  the  faces 
of  my  fast  friends,  the  hills  and  rocks  of  New  Hampshire. 
I  was  kindly  entertained  by  a  younger  generation  of  my 
kindred  at  tlie  ancestral  homestead,  which  they  have  en- 
larged and  beautified.  The  song  of  the  pines,  the  murmur 
of  the  mountain  brooks,  the  ready  response  of  the  trout, 
seemed  to  me  a  hearty  welcome  after  fifty  3'ears'  absence. 
The  whippoorwill,  the  bobolink,  and  the  solitary  thrush,  — 
that  bird  of  the  sweet,  shrill  whistle,  never  seen,  but  heard 
at  sunset  in  the  deepest  shades  of  the  wood, —  came  back 
to  me  with  all  their  early  inspiration.  I  have  slept  in  the 
room  where  I  was  born  —  in  the  room  where  I  was  taught 
the  Scriptures  —  in  the  room  where  my  mother  daily  in 
prayer  commended  me  to  God.  I  have  picked  blackberries 
where  stood  the  house  to  which  my  mother  used  to  take 
me  to  the  weekly  female  prayer-meeting  which  she  estab- 
lished and  sustained.  I  have  been  up  and  down  the  hills 
over  which,  from  five  to  seven  years  of  age,  I  walked  three 
miles  to  the  meeting-house  to  recite  my  Sabbath-school 
lesson,  —  not  one  "Golden  Text,"  but  many.  My  mother 
thought  all  the  verses  goldeii.  The  kind  man,  the  teacher, 
gave  me  a  blue  ticket  for  ever}'  ten  verses  recited ;  and 
when  I  had  gained  ten  blue  tickets,  he  exchanged  them  for 
a  red  one. 

In  a  letter  "written  to  his  family  in  August,  1881,  he  thus  alludes  to 
his  first  visit  to  the  sanctuary :  — 

I  have  a  clear  recollection  of  the  Sabbath  day  on  this  same 
spot  at  least  sixty-seven  years  ago.  Sister  R.  and  Aunt  L. 
had  been  at  much  pains  to  fit  me  out  with  boy's  clothes. 
Some  gifts  kept  in  my  purse  furnished  the  means  for  a  new 
cap.      And  then,  as  though  they  had  some  premonition  of 


4  REV.    HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

my  ministerial  life,  I  was  made  to  appear  in  the  family  pew 
under  the  pulpit.  I  think  I  have  always  been  a  good  hearer. 
I  began  then.  It  was  at  the  "South  meeting-house."  The 
pews  were  in  the  sheep-pen  form,  the  seats  of  the  slam-bang 
order,  Rev.  W.  T.  the  preacher.  The  text,  Ps.  55  :  6-8,  "  Oh 
that  I  had  wings  like  a  dove,"  etc.,  made  a  prodigious  impres- 
sion on  my  young  imagination.  I  could  repeat  the  text  to 
my  grandmother,  and  some  of  the  sermon.  .  .  . 

When  seven  years  of  age,  he  and  his  mother  removed  to  the  home  of 
his  oldest  brother  in  "Warner,  X.II.,  five  miles  from  his  birthplace. 
Here,  when  not  attending  school,  he  worked  on  the  farm  and  at  his 
brother's  woollen  mill.  An  aged  friend  distinctly  remembers  going  into 
the  mill,  and  pitying  him  as  he  tui-ned  the  crank  of  the  roller  on  which 
the  cloth  was  wound.  He  was  standing  upon  a  box  that  he  might 
reach  the  handle.  Outside,  the  day  was  sultry  and  oppressive :  within, 
a  fire,  which  was  needed,  made  the  heat  almost  intolerable.  But  the 
little  fellow  toiled  on  diligently  without  complaint. 

He  now  regularly  attended  church  and  the  day  and  Sabbath  school. 
These  were  nearer  of  access  than  before,  —  less  than  two  miles  away. 
Rev.  John  Woods,  D.D.,  afterward  of  Newport,  N.H.,  was  the  minister. 
Late  in  life  he  recalled  many  of  the  texts  and  thoughts  of  this  able  and 
devoted  pastor  of  his  childhood. 

In  an  address  upon  "The  Dogs  of  Damascus,"  he  thus  reverts  to  one 
of  the  pleasures  and  pangs  of  his  childhood  :  — 

As  my  imagination  returns  to  life's  young  morning  in  my 
mountain  home,  the  first  living  form  that  bounds  down  the 
road  to  meet  me  is  "  Rover."  Tie  and  I  were  the  only  youth- 
ful hearts  left  in  the  family.  Though  of  a  mottled  black  and 
white,  he  was  "  altogether  comely."  His  eyes  brimmed  with 
wit  and  good-nature.  His  inward  life,  beauty,  affection,  were 
expressed  in  his  form,  features,  and  motions.  Our  lives  inter- 
penetrated each  other.  Our  fun  and  fears  mingled.  We 
scarcely  knew  any  individual  life. 

lint  a  blight  of  ill-fame  came  down  like  night  upon  my 
innocent  friend.  Under  the  villanous  cry,  "Sheep,  sheep!" 
without  a  hearing  or  a  defence,  my  boon-companion  was  cut 
off,  and  thrown  lifeless  at  my  door.  Here,  as  in  the  case  of 
David  and  Jonathan,  the  Philistine  separated  chief  friends. 
He  was  four  years  of  age,  and  I  seven.     Never  was  there  a 


THE  BOY.  5 

sincerer  mourner.  Where  the  willows  sent  down  their  pen- 
dent, weeping-  branches,  alone,  under  tlie  pale  crescent  and 
the  baleful  star,  I  buried  my  friend,  darkling;  in  my  very 
tears  imprecating  just  retribution  on  the  murderer. 

Forty  years  passed  away,  and  neither  distance  nor  time  had 
effaced  my  early  love  and  bereavement.  And  I  regret  to 
admit  that  a  lingering  umbrage  shaded  my  mind  all  these 
years.  But  since  my  residence  with  you,  I  made  a  visit  to 
the  spot  of  my  birth.  As  I  mused  among  the  nettles  and 
ruins,  where  once  were  pleasant  gardens  and  cheerful  homes, 
at  a  sharp  turn  in  the  road,  now  nearly  grown  up  with  alders, 
I  suddenly  came  squarely  in  the  face  of  the  man  whom  forty 
years  before  I  had  denounced  over  the  grave  of  my  dog. 

At  once  the  wound  was  opened,  and,  quick  as  the  light- 
ning's flash,  the  old  indignation  came  to  my  face,  and  almost 
to  my  fist.  But  when  I  saw  his  careworn  cheek,  his  pinched 
features,  his  triangular  eyes;  when  I  saw  his  harness  tied 
up  with  a  fish-line,  and,  for  want  of  buttons,  his  coat  held 
together  by  a  thorn,  his  horse  hobbling,  liis  wheels  wabbling, 
as  he  made  his  way  over  the  stones,  —  my  anger  was  turned 
into  pity,  and  I  repented  that  I  had  not  forgiven  more,  and 
execrated  less. 

Ill  his  ninth  summer,  when  returning  from  a  neighbor's,  where  his 
motlier  had  sent  him  after  fire  (this  was  before  the  days  of  lucifer 
matches),  he  was  prostrated  to  the  ground  by  lightning.  The  bolt 
spent  its  force  some  five  rods  from  the  spot  where  he  stood,  cleaving  in 
twain  a  large  rock,  and  killing  several  sheep.  He  received  no  injury. 
Quick  as  thought,  on  rising  to  his  feet,  one  of  his  Bible  verses  flashed 
upon  his  mind  with  terrible  vividness,  —  "If  the  righteous  scarcely  be 
saved,  where  shall  the  ungodly  and  the  sinner  appear." 

Of  his  life  at  ten  years  of  age,  he  thus  writes  when  seventy  :  — 

My  tenth  winter  was  spent  in  the  bleak  north,  under 
the  shadow  of  Kearsarge.  With  buskins  on  my  feet,  linsey- 
woolsey  around  my  body,  a  red  cap,  culminating  in  a  tassel, 
upon  my  head,  I  defied  the  storms.  Save  a  tingle  in  an  ear 
or  toe,  the  mercury  at  20°  or  30°  below  zero  touched,  only 
to  quicken  my  blood.  Fifteen  head  of  cattle  and  a  cor- 
responding number  of  sheep,  geese,  and  hens,  were  my  pas- 
toral charge.     Those  were  lively  times  at  the  winter  school 


6  REV.   HORACE   EATON,   D.D 

of  two  months  on  the  ledge.  I  snow-balled,  slid  down  hill, 
wrestled,  got  whipped  by  larger  boys,  grappled  with  Webster's 
Spelling-book,  jNIorse's  Geography,  and  Adams'  Arithmetic, 
was  swamped  in  Mnrraj^'s  Grammar,  and  read  with  great  de- 
light the  prose  and  poetry  of  the  English  Reader.  I  deemed 
it  a  stranf^e  vicissitnde  that  one  so  innocent  shonld  share  so 
much  of  the  ferule.  I  was  unfortunate:  iSly  consolation 
was  peculiar.  Our  eldest  brother,  Frederic,  was  the  teacher ; 
and  it  was  safe,  if  not  heroic,  to  make  me  an  example.  In 
distributing  presents  at  the  close,  there  was  a  fitness  that 
the  ferule  fell  to  me.  jNIy  tenth  was  a  memorable  winter. 
I  mastered  the  sums  in  Double  Position  and  most  of  the 
"  Miscellaneous  Questions."  I  grew  tough  and  strong  in 
the  strife. 

When  twelve  years  of  age,  his  mother  sent  him  to  Xorth  Sutton,  about 
five  miles  from  home,  to  live  Avith  Robert  Lane,  M.D.,  the  doctor  "for 
all  the  country  round."  Here  he  began  to  look  out  upon  the  -world,  his 
circle  of  ideas  broadened.     He  remained  in  this  place  two  years. 

From  his  journal :  — 

Aug.  20,  1875.  Came  at  length  through  the  alder-groves 
to  the  sight  of  the  hills  on  Dr.  Lane's  old  farm,  where 
I  used  to  labor.  Now  I  am  at  the  gate.  I  enter  at  the 
north  door.  I  am  welcomed  to  the  parlor.  ^Irs.  Dr.  Smiley, 
the  cultured  and  excellent  daughter  of  Dr.  Lane,  greets  me. 
Her  husband  accompanied  me  over  the  premises.  The 
stables  were  lined  with  oak  plank  that  I  drew  from  the  mill 
far  beyond  Squire  Harvey's.  In  this  barn  I  took  care  of  the 
doctor's  horses.  Saw  the  channel  of  a  ditch  I  dug,  visited 
the  orchard  I  set  out,  roamed  upon  the  hill  I  cleared, 
where  I  fought  fire,  and  hoed  in  rye.  Li  the  liouse  I  found 
the  little  bedroom  which  was  finished  off  for  me.  I  painted 
the  floor.  Here  I  daily  read  the  Bible,  and  prayed  with 
self-rigliteous  gratulation  ;  fancied  myself  much  better  than 
some  of  the  godless  and  profane  men  with  whom  I  worked. 
Went  into  the  doctor's  room,  where  I  made  the  fires,  and 
waited  while  he  consulted  his  books. 

In  other  manuscripts  we  find  the  following  allusions  to  his  childhood 
and  to  his  mother  :  — 


THE  BOY.  7 

I  began  life  amid  liigli  hills,  like  the  hill  of  Bashan.  I 
was  rocked  in  a  mountain  cradle  in  the  Granite  Slate,  in  its 
hardest,  roughest  town. 

By  birth  and  education  I  was  from  the  wild  Gilead  region, 
east  of  the  river,  the  home  of  the  Tishbite,  where  Amos  was 
a  gatherer  of  sycamore  fruit.  Snow,  snow,  from  November 
to  May  —  late  springs,  short  summers,  lean  harvests.  The 
men  of  Western  New  York  know  little  of  the  hard  work, 
coarse  fare,  severe  frugality,  of  this  part  of  the  Alpine  State. 
When  stern  necessities  were  met,  little  was  left  for  the 
elegancies  and  luxuries  of  life.  Here  my  humble  experi- 
ence strikes  the  common  chord  of  poverty,  —  not,  indeed, 
that  chill  penury  that  freezes  "the  genial  current  of  the 
soul,"  —  not  the  indigence  that  crowds  the  poor  into  tene- 
ments of  filth  and  vice,  —  not  the  poverty  that  dulls  the 
spirit,  and  makes  tramps,  but  that  which  stimulates  courage 
to  "take  arms  against  a  sea  of  troubles,  and  by  opposing, 
end  them,"  —  not  the  poverty  which  starves  the  intellect, 
shuts  the  schoolhouse,  the  church,  the  college,  but  rather 
crowds  them  all  with  earnest,  inquiring  minds.  We  were 
indeed  poor ;  but  we  were  not  serfs.  There  is  a  poverty  that 
holds  back  from  ruin,  that  saves.  The  Phoenix  wings  of 
genius  are  as  likely  to  melt  before  the  sun  of  fortune  as  they 
are  to  be  paralyzed  by  the  frosts  of  adversity. 

From  a  lecture  on  "  The  Tuition  of  Roclis  "  :  — 

It  is  not  unlikely  that  some  son  of  New  Hampshire,  after 
a  long  absence  in  the  fertile  West,  on  returning  to  the  spot 
of  his  birth,  will  feel  that  the  rocks  have  grown  larger,  the 
•soil  more  unrelenting,  the  mountains  more  lofty  and  cragged, 
than  fifty  years  agone.  He  will  almost  pity  his  own  feet 
and  hands,  that  once  bled  as  they  ran  and  wrought  on  such 
acres.  He  pities  a  lung  line  of  hardy  ancestors,  who  cleared, 
walled,  ploughed,  and  reaped  these  fields.  The  renewed 
sight  of  the  old  home  is  in  danger  of  awakening  sickness 
rather  than  joy  of  heart.  But  careful  reflection  upon  the 
discipline  of  these  austere  beginnings  may  discover  compen- 
sations that  go  far  toward  balancing  the  hardships.  If  the 
bowlders  were  big  and  barren,  the  boys  were  the  bolder  for 


8  JIEV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

the  climbing.  If  the  glebe  was  stubborn,  it  called  out  a  stub- 
born energy  to  conquer  it.  If  the  share  became  dull  as  it 
crashed  through  the  stony  furrow,  the  ingenuity  of  the 
ploughboy  Avaxed  keen  and  bright.  Obstacles  overcome  in 
youth  gave  courage  for  encounters  in  manhood.  If  the 
storm  raged,  the  clieeks  grew  red  on  the  way  to  school,  the 
mind  more  vigorous  for  a  successful  encounter  with  books. 
The  sharpest  frost  brings  down  the  acorns.  If  the  Sabbath 
journey  was  long,  if  the  feet  were  bare,  weary,  sore,  when 
arrived  at  the  house  of  God,  the  singing  of  Watts'  Hymns 
was  all  the  sweeter,  the  truth  all  the  more  impressive,  every 
word  like  "a  nail  driven  in  a  sure  place."  If  in  climbing 
the  mountains  a  ladder  was  needed,  the  steeper  the  ascent, 
the  swifter  the  streams,  and,  the  swifter  the  streams,  the 
more  spindles  they  will  drive.  The  mills  and  manufactures 
on  the  working,  singing  rivers  and  rivulets  of  New  Hamp- 
shire, are  no  little  recompense  for  the  hardback  in  her 
pastures  and  the  hackmatack  on  her  highlands. 

And  then  acres  are  not  always  to  be  estimated  by  the 
bushels  of  grain  garnered.  Mental  excitement,  ideas  of 
beauty  and  sublimity,  are  sometimes  worth  more  than  wheat. 
The  highest  feats  of  faith  have  been  acliieved  on  the  bald 
mountain-tops.  Who  shall  say  that  Hermon,  towering  in 
grandeur  over  the  temples  of  God,  did  not  contribute  as 
much  to  the  solid  prosperity  of  Israel  as  the  valley  of  the 
Jordan,  or  the  plain  of  Esdraelon?  Who  shall  say  that 
the  rocks  and  hills  of  Palestine  were  not  more  valuable 
to  the  world  than  the  fertile  plains  of  Assyria? 

"  What  glowiiij^  thoughts,  what  glowing  themes. 
To  mountain-tops  he-long! 
The  law  from  Sinai's  summit  came; 
From  Sion,  sacred  song. 

"  Anil  Genius  on  Parnassian  heights 
Mis  hanncr  first  unfurled, 
And  from  tlie  sevcn-hiliod  city  waved 
The  sword  that  swayed  the  world. 

"  Then  let  us  raise  the  song  of  praise  ; 
To  us  the  heights  were  given  : 
Our  granite  hills  are  altars  still 
To  lift  our  hopes  to  heaven." 


THE  BOY.  9 

For  the  rugged  soil  there  is  an  offset  in  the  tuition  of 
rocks.  These  severe  disciplinarians  gear  the  young  life  to 
an  industry,  economy,  perseverance,  and  invention  that  will 
live  well  on  what  others  waste. 

Our  rock-ribbed  hills  furnish  the  solid  foundations  for  the 
temples  and  capitols  of  other  States,  and  the  pillars  and 
architraves  cut  and  polished  after  the  similitude  of  Athenian 
grace.  For  hard  hands  we  have  a  reward  in  the  free  air, 
free  schools,  free  churches,  free  consciences,  that  nourished 
our  early  life.  •  .  . 

Sept.  22, 1878,  he  preached  a  sermon  on  "  The  Early  Memories  awakened 
by  Ancient  Localities  "  :  — 

The  well  of  Bethlehem,  which  was  by  the  gate,  suggested 
to  the  shepherd  and  the  warrior  king  not  only  his  native 
region,  bat  his  early,  humble  home.  Tins  was  the  polar  star 
to  which  the  needle  of  his  soul  ever  settled.  His  home 
might  have  been  in  ruins,  he  would  have  clung  to  it  still. 
The  sight  of  ruins  calls  up  the  voice  of  years.  I  have  mused 
amid  the  deserted  temples,  where  silence  and  the  owl  have 
for  ages  kept  their  solitary  reign.  Within  the  crumbling 
walls  of  the  Roman  Coliseum,  imagination  still  hears  the 
ravings  of  the  wild  beasts  and  the  groans  of  the  dying 
gladiator.  Grooves  worn  by  wheels  in  the  pavement  at 
Pompeii  bring  back  the  din  of  lier  "jumping  chariots." 
But  such  echoes  of  the  ancient  world  are  distant  and 
shadowy,  like  the  slender  voices  of  the  phonograph.  While 
absent  this  summer,  wandering  on  a  time  through  an  obscure 
and  neglected  field,  I  came  to  a  forsaken  cellar.  There  were 
"  sermons  in  those  stones."  They  were  carefully  laid  by  my 
own  father's  hands.  Eighty-seven  years  ago,  on  this  foun- 
dation, he  erected  the  humble  dwelling  in  which  my  parents 
began  their  married  life.  Here  six  of  my  older  brothers  and 
sisters  were  born.  Here  occurred  the  first  death  in  the 
family.  How  much  of  history  is  unwritten  !  What  labors, 
joys,  sorrows,  sympathies,  charities,  could  be  evoked  from 
this  old  cellar !  Here  was  a  cheerful  hearthstone.  Here  the 
Bible,  the  Hymn-book,  the  Catechism,  and  prayer  had  their 
place.     On  the  grassy  lawn  the  children  used  to  sport  in 


10  REV.   HORACE   EATON,   D.D. 

childlike  innocence.  Near  by,  a  rosebush  showed  "where 
once  the  garden  smiled."  In  this  little  paradise  among  the 
rocks  mj  mother  appeared  in  her  happiest  attitude,  seeking 
both  to  delight  the  senses  of  her  children,  and  to  find  analo- 
gies with  whicli  to  point  a  moral. 

It  was  a  tender  service  when,  three  years  ago,  five  of  our 
family  were  permitted  to  stand  around  this  old  cellar,  and 
mark  where  our  mother  used  to  plant  the  coarse  and  honest 
sunflower,  the  erect  and  soldier-like  hollyhock,  the  flaring 
poppy,  the  curt  pink,  and  the  gorgeous  peony.  But  now, 
save  the  rose  and  the  lilac,  the  nettle,  the  mullein,  the 
elecampane,  have  usurped  this  sacred  soil.  Farewell  to  this 
old  and  lonely  cellar !  The  moon  will  shed  its  cold  rays 
upon  it.  The  northern  tempests  will  sweep  over  it,  and  fill 
it  with  the  drifting  snow.  But  the  hearts  once  cherished 
there  are  gone,  "all  gone  from  their  mountain  home."  .  .  . 

The  returning  pilgrim  will  soon  be  away  to  the  site  of  the 
old  schoolliouse.  Sixty  or  seventy  years  ago  a  New  Hamp- 
shire schoolhouse  among  the  mountains  had  little  of  modern 
helps  or  attractions,  —  no  cabinet,  no  library,  map,  or  stove. 
The  floor  was  rough,  the  iireplace,  the  teachers,  rough.  All 
our  lessons  were  enforced  by  a  generous  anointing  of  the 
"oil  of  birch." 

"  ()  ye  who  teach  the  ingenuous  youth  of  nations, 
I  pray  j^ou  flog  them  upon  all  occasions  : 
It  mends  tlieir  morals." 

The  pressure  to  make  the  most  of  three  months  drove  us 
as  far  into  "  Cube  Root "  and  "  Rule  of  Three  "  as  might  the 
more  leisurely  study  of  a  whole  year.  When  four  years 
old,  I  was  entered  as  freshman  at  the  people's  college  —  the 
district  schoolhouse  —  by  m}^  oldest  sister.  Returning  to 
the  old  ledge,  for  that  schoolhouse  was  "founded  upon  a 
rock,"  I  could  mark  as  early  friends  every  crevice  and  inden- 
tation, and  find  also  in  my  own  being  lines  and  impressions 
of  truth  here  engraved.  "  Marm  Evans,"  my  first  instructor, 
was  not  there ;  but  I  was  permitted  to  meet  one  old  teacher, 
"  Master  Page."  He  remembered  me :  I  remembered  him. 
Of  all  my  teachers,  he  never  whipped  me.  ...     On  Sab- 


THE  BOY.  11 

bath  morning  I  craved  it  as  a  means  of  grace  to  make 
my  way  alone  and  on  foot  to  the  ancient  sanctuary.  At 
every  turn  of  the  road  troops  of  sweet  memories  sprang  up 
to  greet  me.  I  piissed  in  at  the  worn  threshold,  and  took 
my  seat  in  the  old  family  pew.  But  I  found  myself  amid  a 
new  generation.  The  dear  pastor  had  long  since  ceased 
from  his  prophesyings.  The  old  choir  had  concluded  their 
songs.  In  vain  I  looked  for  my  faithful  and  ingenious 
teacher  in  the  Sabbath  school.  Gone  were  the  deacons,  the 
venerable  men  who  bore  the  vessels  of  the  Lord, — gone  the 
old  members,  save  here  and  there  one,  "  like  two  or  three 
olives  in  the  outmost  branch,  after  the  ingathering."  But 
the  church  still  lives.  Her  gates  were  filled  with  devout 
believers.  It  was  delightful  to  hear  the  old  hymn,  "  I  love 
thy  kingdom,  Lord."  I  was  impressed  with  the  thought, 
how  much  I  owed  to  the  Sabbaths,  sermons,  songs,  and  sup- 
plications of  this  time-honored  place  of  worship.  Here  I 
recited  the  Assembly's  Shorter  Catechism  to  the  pastor,  and 
much  of  the  New  Testament  to  my  Sabbath-school  teacher. 
From  this  spot,  principles,  convictions,  purposes,  followed  me 
that  have  guided  me  in  doubt,  held  me  back  in  temptation, 
cheered  me  in  trials.  My  mother  was  never  more  happy 
than  when  she  could  see  her  children  thus  "planted  in  the 
house  of  the  Lord."  How  eagerly  she  listened  to  a  good 
sermon !  She  treasured  it  in  her  heart,  taught  it  from  her 
lips  and  life.  I  bless  God  for  7n^  mother  and  the  old  Congre- 
gational Church  of  Warner.,  N.H. 

In  various  letters  he  thus  speaks  of  his  mother :  — 

My  mother  was  a  woman  of  great  strength  of  mind,  of 
wonderful  equanimity  and  self-control,  of  few  words,  but 
those  fitly  chosen.  She  was  "  mighty  in  the  Scriptures."  In 
the  painful  and  protracted  sickness  which  preceded  her 
death,  when  unable  to  read,  she  solaced  herself  by  repeat- 
ing chapter  after  chapter,  without  prompting  or  mistake. 

I  cannot  remember  the  time  when  she  did  not  pray  daily 
with  us  children. 

When  I  think  of  my  mother,  it  is  the  mother  that  used  to 
weave  in  the  north  chamber,  that  used  to  pray  in  the  bed- 


12  REV.    HORACE   EATON,   D.D. 

room,  and  have  a  female  prayer-meeting  on  Thursday  after- 
noon. 

That  old  home  at  Brother  F.'s,  on  "Hard  Scrabble," 
bears  witness  to  mother's  prayers  :  so  does  the  old  bed-room 
at  Grandfather  K.'s.  As  I  slept  with  her  in  my  infancy, 
I  remember  her  kneeling  by  my  bed,  and,  with  her  hand 
upon  my  head,  commending  me  to  God.  Brother  J.  says, 
that  on  awaking  in  the  night  he  would  hear  her  praying  in 
a  low  voice.  It  was  her  uniform  practice  to  rise  from  her 
bed,  and,  kneeling  by  it,  to  have  a  season  of  jjrayer  in  the 
deep  silence  of  night. 

My  mother  was  a  "mother  in  Israel."  When  I  was  an 
infant,  she  was  left  a  widoAv,  utterly  penniless,  with  eleven 
children,  the  oldest  eighteen.  I  am  astonished  as  I  reflect 
upon  the  heart  so  calm,  brave,  cheerful,  believing,  Avith  which 
she  met  the  trial.  I  rarely  remember  a  tear,  and  even  then 
it  was  shed  in  gratitude.  For  her  brood  she  found  homes, 
where  they  were  served  to  coarse  food,  coarse  clothing,  and 
plenty  of  hard  work.  With  one  hand  she  held  on  to  her  seven 
sons  and  four  daughters,  and  with  the  other  she  grasped  the 
horns  of  the  altar. 

Maternal  faith  was  not  unrewarded.  She  lived  to  see  all  lier  children, 
save  one,  useful  members  of  society  and  of  the  Christian  churcli.  Her 
prayers  ever  followed  that  other  child,  who  early  removed  South  with  the 
family  that  adopted  him.  In  the  vicissitudes  of  the  late  war  all  trace  of 
him  was  lost.     The  mother  believed  she  should  meet  him  also  in  heaven. 

When  Dr.  Eaton,  the  youngest  child,  was  fifty-three  years  of  age, 
eleven  of  the  brothers  and  sisters  were  living. 


CHAPTER   II. 

1824-1833. 

A  LONG  JOURNEY,  —  ST.    ALBANS,  VT.  —  HIS   CONVEHSTON. — 
DECIDES   TO    STUDY   FOR   THE   MINISTRY. 

Till  I  was  fourteen,  I  had  it  as  rough,  and  worked  as  hard, 
as  any  boy  I  ever  knew.  At  that  time  my  mother  planned 
for  me  an  exodus. 

After  the  lapse  of  fifty  years,  he  thus  speaks  of  the  new  departure :  — 
Aug.  20,  1875.  Rose  early  this  morning,  and  was  off  in 
good  season  for  North  Sutton.  Endeavored  to  recall  the 
impressions  of  that  eventful  hour  when  I  left  the  spot  of 
my  birth  for  St.  Albans,  to  learn  the  trade  of  watchmaker 
and  jeweler  of  Brother  H.  Could  but  notice  how  the  trees 
had  overgrown  the  fields,  and  invaded  the  road.  Fifty  years 
have  not  enlarged  the  boundar}^  of  pasturage  and  arable  land 
in  New  Hampshire,  but  contracted  it.  I  heard  the  drumming 
of  partridges  where  fifty  years  ago  I  heard  the  bleating  of 
sheep  and  the  song  of  the  ploughman.  It  was  a  bold  push  in 
those  days  for  a  poor  boy,  fourteen  years  old,  to  leave  his 
home,  mother,  and  friends  for  a  journey  on  foot  of  one  hun- 
dred and  sixty  miles.  I  did  not  fear  any  danger,  or  the  toil 
of  the  way,  but  had  a  certain  solemn  foreboding  of  an  un- 
seen destiny.  I  knew  not  what  might  betide  me.  It  was 
like  looking  out  of  a  window  in  a  dark  night.  Mother  had 
put  up  in  a  bag  food  enough  to  last  me  three  days.  She  had 
made  me  a  vest  and  pants  from  the  worn-out  popularity  of 
some  other  boys,  and,  for  a  coat,  had  cut  up  her  best  fulled- 
cloth  shawl.  These  were  my  Sunday  clothes.  In  them  I 
expected  to  make  a  good  appearance  before  my  Uncle  J.  at 
Montpelier,  and  before  Brother  II.  at  the  end  of  my  journey. 
I  admired  their  texture  and  beauty  vastly  more  than  a  suit 
I  afterwards  purchased  in  Paris.     I  had  a  good  thick  pair  of 


14  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

boots,  which  I  forbore  to  put  on,  lest  I  shoukl  wear  them  out. 
All  my  effects  were  packed  into  a  knapsack,  together  Avith  a 
Bible  given  nie  by  Dr.  Lane.  The  burden  was  some  sixteen 
pounds.  In  my  wallet  were  ten  dollars,  which  1  had  saved 
from  my  wages. 

A  week  before,  I  had  found  in  the  road  a  pine  cane,  slim, 
straight,  and  painted  blue.  I  had  no  "faithful  dog  to  bear 
mo  company'"  i  but  this  cane  was  no  little  comfort.  Barefoot, 
clad  in  my  every-day  clothes,  this  pack  on  my  back,  I  started 
off  early  one  morning  in  September.  Mother  commended  me 
to  God  in  the  "west  room,"  and  attended  me  down  to  the 
willow-tree.  There  she  blessed  me,  and  gave  me  the  j^arting 
kiss.  Soon  the  house  disa})peared  from  view.  Like  Jacob 
when  he  fled  from  his  brother,  I  was  utterly  alone.  Every 
stream,  tree,  rock,  was  like  a  dear  friend,  and  I  bade  them 
farewell  with  a  tearful  sympathy.  I  passed  the  saw-mill, 
the  house  of  M.  R.  I  did  not  call  at  L.  G.'s ;  though  while 
at  Dr.  L.'s  I  had  spent  many  a  pleasant  hour  there.  The 
groups  of  boj's  and  girls  I  did  not  care  to  see.  But  to  the 
next  house,  —  that  of  J.  M.,  whose  wife  was  my  father's 
sister,  —  to  that  house  my  heart  drew  with  childlike  yearn- 
ings. My  dear  aunt  wept  Avith  sympathy  over  my  solitary 
undertaking.  She  left  her  cheese-tub,  and  walked  with  me 
down  to  the  spring.  I  went  along  the  shore  of  Gile  Pond, 
where  I  had  fished  and  skated  and  bathed.  It  looked  placid 
and  kind  upon  me.  Over  New  London  Hill  I  sat  down  to 
my  dinner.  My  heart  glowed  with  love  for  my  precious 
mother  as  I  opened  the  sack's  mouth  and  looked  upon  ray 
favorite  eatables.  I  hastened  on  toward  Sunapee  Pond,  cross- 
ing the  bridge.  Here  a  moment  of  home-sickness  came  over 
me.  I  was  feeling  weak  and  unwell.  To  be  sick  among 
strangers  has  ever  seemed  to  me  the  most  forbidding  of 
calamities.  I  climbed  over  mountains,  and  threaded  val- 
leys, till  the  sun  Avent  down ;  then  I  called  at  a  lowly 
but  pleasant  and  inviting  house,  where  they  consented  to 
allow  me  to  remain  for  the  night. 

One  evening  ho  put  \ip  at  a  small  country  tavern,  and  overheard  sus- 
picious whisperings   concerning   himself.      "  Posters  were  out,"  it  was 


THE   APPRENTICE.  15 

said,  for  a  "  RUNAWAY  BOY !  "  "  Perhaps  this  is  he  !  "  Leaving  his 
blue  cane  and  bundle  in  the  corner  of  the  hall,  he  paid  liis  bill  and  retired 
to  his  chamber,  but  by  no  means  to  an  untroubled  repose.  "  A  wounded 
spirit  who  can  bear?"  Without  observation,  three  o'clock  the  next 
morning  found  him  on  his  northward  way.  He  was  sure  his  parcel  had 
been  examined,  and  he  always  believed  that  the  Bible  it  contained  was 
the  reason  that  further  investigation  into  his  case  was  suspended. 

As  he  journeyed,  he  came  to  Hanover,  N.H.,  arriving  there  in  the  day- 
time, as  the  young  men  of  Dartmouth  College  were  taking  exercise  at 
their  various  sports.  For  rest  and  refreshment  he  called  at  a  shop  or 
store  opposite  the  institution.  Dr.  A.,  the  middle-aged  man  who  kept  it, 
was  very  cordial  and  communicative.  In  answer  to  the  boy's  question 
whether  he  would  be  allowed  to  go  into  the  college  buildings,  he  readily 
directed  him  to  the  right  door.  He  took  a  general  survey  of  the  lower 
hall  and  some  of  the  empty  recitation-rooms.  On  returning,  the  kind 
gentleman  gave  him  some  healthful  food  and  drink,  for  which  he  would 
not  accei^t  money,  and  with  much  good  advice  and  a  "  God  bless  you !  " 
sent  him  on.  ^Vlien  this  same  lad,  ten  years  after,  entered  Dartmouth 
College  as  a  student,  the  trader  recognized  him  at  once,  greeted  him 
warmly,  and  ever  took  much  interest  and  some  pride  in  his  Dartmouth 

boy. 

Up  through  the  sightly  passes  of  the  Green  Mountains,  Montpelier,  Vt., 
at  length  hove  in  sight.  In  that  city  lived  an  uncle  whom  he  had  never 
Been.  Footsore  and  weary  he  sat  down  by  a  shaded  brook  some  distance 
outside  the  town.  Taking  out  his  nuniature  mirror,  he  was  himself  sur- 
prised at  the  change  which  a  thorough  bath,  his  comb,  his  boots,  and  new 
suit  had  wrought  in  him.  After  a  restful  Sabbath  and  a  comparatively 
short  season  of  travel,  he  was  welcomed  at  St.  Albans,  Much  to  his 
chagrin,  his  brother  at  once  procured  for  him  better  and  more  modern 
clothing.  The  "age  of  homespun  "was  even  then  taking  its  flight  from 
New  England. 

He  was  soon  busy  and  happy  at  work,  adding  to  his  duties  in  the  shop 
those  of  janitor  of  the  church. 

The  "  set  time  "  for  his  conversion  to  God  drew  nigh. 

The  struggle  between  dependence  on  self  and  on  Christ  continued  for 
several  weeks.  He  redoubled  his  prayers.  He  multiplied  the  chapters 
he  read  in  the  Bible.  He  was  most  attentive  to  the  services  of  the  sanc- 
tuary. He  wondered  that  no  peace,  no  rest,  visited  his  soul.  At  length 
a  young  friend  of  his  own  age  came  out  a  joyful  Christian.  Then  he  saw 
his  heart.  It  was  full  of  enmity  against  God  because  his  comrade,  who 
had  not  lived  half  so  blameless  or  devout  a  life  as  himself,  had  been  for- 
given. He  was  overcome  with  horror  and  alarm  at  his  own  self-righteous- 
ness and  depravity.    When  the  day's  work  was  done,  he  entered  the  back 


16  REV.   HORACE  EATON,    D.D. 

shop,  his  "closet."  His  words  were  few,  "  0  Lord,  I'm  a  lost  sinner.  If 
thou  satie  me,  I  live  ;  if  not,  I  perish,  I  can  never,  never  save  myself.  I 
cast  myself  upon  the  infinite  mercij  of  Jesus  Christ,  the  Saviour."  A  strange 
quiet  stole  over  his  spirit.  He  rejoiced  that  God  had  so  favored  his  com- 
panion. He  felt  that  God  would  be  blameless  were  he  himself  unblessed. 
He  was  so  satisfied  with  God  that  he  left  himself  in  his  hands  without 
concern  or  anxiety. 

Kneeling  by  the  bench,  wearied  in  body  and  mind,  he  at  length  fell 
asleep.  The  angels  that  rejoice  when  one  sinner  repenteth,  ascending 
from  that  lumbered  room,  "  counted,  as  they  wrote  up  the  people,  that 
this  man  was  born  there."  No  wonder  he  called  it  his  "  Bethel,"  where 
the  Lord  met  him  at  the  first. 

His  mental  distress  was  gone;  but  he  did  not  indulge  a  hope  that  he 
was  a  Christian  until  the  meeting  of  the  next  monthly  concert,  held 
in  those  days  on  the  first  IMonday  evening  of  the  month.  Then  the 
Redeemer  seemed  to  him  unspeakably  precious,  and  he  longed  that  all 
whom  he  knew,  that  "earth's  remotest  nation,  might  learn  IMessiah's 
name."  In  his  pocket  was  one  silver  dollar,  earned  "  out  of  hours  "  by 
collecting  and  selling  the  ashes  of  his  own  and  neighboring  shops.  Joy- 
fully he  placed  it  "  in  the  hat "  as  it  was  passed  around  near  the  close  of 
the  service.  From  that  hour,  love  for  Christ's  cause  and  a  burning  zeal 
for  its  advancement  took  possession  of  his  being.  Doubts  in  regard  to 
his  acceptance  with  Christ  seem  rarely  to  have  annoyed  him.  Hence- 
forth Paul's  motto  was  his  :  "  One  thing  I  do."  Even  the  early  years  of 
his  spiritual  life  were  characterized  by  great  earnestness  and  enthusiasm 
in  work  for  the  ^Master. 

He  united  with  the  Congregational  Church  in  St.  Albans  the  first 
Sabbath  in  Juno,  1828. 

In  after-life  he  refers  to  the  more  direct  agencies  which  led  to  his  con- 
version,—  his  brother,  his  Sabbath-school  teacher,  and  his  pastor.  Of  the 
first  he  says  :  — 

IT.  was  a  dear,  loving,  pious  brother.  He  lured  and  pra3'ed 
me  into  the  Idngdom. 

Of  his  Sabbath-school  teacher  he  writes,  in  1878  :  — 

When  T  went  to  St.  Albans  I  fell  into  the  class  taught  bj 
Joseph  H.  Brainerd,  Esq.  He  took  an  interest  in  me.  His 
instructions  directed  my  mind  upward.  He  often  spoke  to 
me  during  the  week.  He  secured  my  name  to  the  total- 
abstinence  pledge  when  fourteen.  When  I  was  seventeen, 
I  stood  up  with  H.  S.,  another  boy  of  the  same  Sabbath- 
school   class,  and  gave  in  my  personal   experience   prior  to 


THE  APPRENTICE.  17 

joining  the  Congregational  Church.  And  Mr.  B.  has  fol- 
lowed me  with  tender  regard  and  special  prayers  ever  since. 
A  few  weeks  ago  I  received  a  letter  from  him,  telling  me 
that  he  was  feeble.  Last  week  came  the  news  of  his  death 
and  the  remarks  of  members  of  the  Franklin  County  bar, 
testifying  to  their  very  great  respect  for  his  memory.  Says 
one,  "  If  asked  what  we  remember  of  him,  my  answer  is, 
Character,  not  want  of  character,  but  character,  positive, 
clear,  and  well-defined,  character  founded  on  principle.  He 
believed  there  was  a  right  and  a  wrong;  that  there  was  a 
God;  that  there  was  such  a  thing  as  virtue,  as  sin;  that 
God  had  given  him  something,  and  required  something  of 
him.  He  could  not  compromise  with  wrong,  or  practice  the 
arts  and  devices  of  the  demagogue." 

I  could  tell  you  now  many  of  the  books  I  read  while  con- 
nected with  that  Sabbath-school  class.  The  first  was,  "  The 
Christian  Father's  Present  to  his  Children,"  by  John  Angell 
James.  I  remember  how  my  mind  was  stirred  by  John 
Fosters  "Decision  of  Character,"  Dick's  "Christian  Phi- 
losopher," and  the  "  Life  of  Rev.  Thomas  Scott." 

In  narrating  the  incidents  of  a  visit  to  New  England  in  September, 
1861,  he  alludes  to  his  valued  pastor,  Rev.  Wortliington  Smith,  D.D., 
afterwards  president  of  Vermont  University  at  Burlington :  — 

On  the  Sabbath  I  worshiped  with  the  living:  on  Mon- 
day morning  I  Avent  to  the  congregation  of  the  dead.  Those 
godly  men  I  used  to  hear  in  the  prayer-meeting  had  taken 
their  places  here.  There  I  could  still  mark  the  graves  of 
some  young  persons  whose  remains  I  attended  as  bearer 
when  I  was  myself  young.  How  impressive  was  the  funeral 
where  I  first  served  as  a  bearer !  Resting  with  a  majority  of 
his  flock,  I  found  the  wise  and  instructive  pastor  to  whom  I 
owe  so  much  for  time  and  eternity.  As  I  leaned  over  his 
headstone,  memory  brought  back  the  first  sermon  I  ever 
heard  him  preach,  and  the  sermon  in  which  he  drove  home 
the  sharp  arrows  of  the  mighty  upon  my  own  conscience, 
another  on  the  greatness  and  sovereignty  of  God,  and  another 
on  the  danger  of  a  false  hope,  from  the  verse,  "  They  have 


18  REV.   HORACE   EATON,   D.D. 

healed  the  hurt  of  the  daughter  of  my  people  slightly,  saying, 
Peace,  peace,  when  there  is  no  peace." 

In  a  sermon  to  the  young  people.  May  4,  1879,  he  spoke  of  his  return 
from  Vermont  to  his  mother,  and  of  his  decision  to  enter  the  gospel 
ministry.  His  text  was,  "I  thank  Christ  Jesus  our  Lord,  who  hath 
enabled  me,  for  that  he  counted  me  faithful,  putting  me  into  the  min- 
istry." 

Nearly  six  years  were  passed,  in  working  as  apprentice  and 
journeyman  at  my  trade,  in  St.  Albans  and  Burlington,  Vt. 
I  then  visited  my  mother  at  Concord,  N.H.  An  absence 
from  fourteen  to  twenty  brought  back  an  enlarged  edition 
of  the  boy.  This  was  true :  the  change  was  so  great  that 
the  mother  did  not  know  her  youngest  son.  The  surprise 
afforded  a  moment  of  innocent  enjoyment.  The  remarks  of 
the  inq\nsitive  youth,  and  his  somewhat  impertinent  ques- 
tions, were  fitted  to  confuse  the  thoughtful  and  inquiring 
matron.  But  one  word  came  so  near  the  maternal  heart  that 
her  eyes  could  no  longer  be  holden,  or  her  child  liid. 

In  after-life  once  only  in  preaching  did  I  liave  my  mother 
as  an  auditor.  Her  good  judgment  did  not  forsake  her.  She 
was  sparing  of  compliment,  and  said,  "I  was  pleased  with 
your  text."  But  at  that  time  her  heart  was  opened  to  make 
a  revelation  of  her  feelings,  purposes,  and  prayers  when  she 
sent  me  away  at  fourteen  :  "  I  did  expect  that  you  Avould 
grow  in  stature  and  knowledge.  I  did  expect  yaw  would  be 
converted  to  Christ.  Deep  under  all  this  1  had  the  secret 
desire  that  you  might  preach  the  gospel.  For  all  these  I 
watched  and  prayed.  All  these  I  have  now  realized  from 
the  hand  of  a  covenant-keeping  God.  '  Now,  lettest  thou  thy 
servant  depart.' " 

And  here  I  must  say  that  it  has  been  my  joy  and  constant 
support,  that  in  some  measure  I  have  been  enabled  to  carry 
out  the  prayers  and  the  programme  of  a  "mother  2^ftssed 
into  the  skies." 

At  this  time  my  peace  was  disturbed  by  a  fierce  inward 
wrestling  Avith  this  question  of  duty,  —  shall  I  pursue  a  pleas- 
ant and  lucrative  trade,  or  spend  my  days  in  obscurity,  pov- 
erty, and  self-denial  as  a  humble  missionary  at  the  West? 


THE  APPRENTICE.  19 

Save  the  point  of  submitting  my  will  unconditionally  to  the 
will  of  God,  no  trial  of  my  life  drew  so  deep,  so  across  the 
grain  of  my  natural  heart,  as  the  turning-away  from  the  craft 
I  had  chosen,  to  a  preparation  for  the  gospel  ministry.  In 
my  early  life,  in  my  impenitent  state,  save  the  influence  of 
my  mother,  I  was  brought  up  in  the  nurture  and  admonition 
of  this  world.  The  chief  end  of  man,  according  to  the  cate- 
chism of  my  native  town,  was  to  make  money.  That  article 
of  their  creed  I  had  hid  in  my  heart.  In  my  eyes  that  man 
was  the  hero  who  made  money.  If  I  looked  upon  a  company 
of  students,  I  admired  the  candidate  for  the  law,  for  medi- 
cine, for  political  life,  because  of  the  hopes  of  wealth  that 
beckoned  him  on.  The  student  for  the  ministry,  for  mission- 
ary service,  seemed  to  me  a  spiritless  starveling,  a  white- 
livered  knight. 

At  conversion  a  light  broke  in  upon  me  which  changed  the 
centres  and  inward  motives  of  my  life.  While  I  resolved 
to  prosecute  my  business  with  a  prudence  and  energy  that 
should  compel  success,  to  be  rich  was  no  longer  the  goal  at 
Avhich  I  aimed.  Christ  and  his  cause  were  to  be  the  legatee 
of  my  gains.  Students  for  the  sacred  office  I  regarded  as  the 
most  honored  of  the  sons  of  men.  When  one  of  my  class- 
mates in  "  clockology "  laid  down  his  hie  for  the  Latin 
grammar,  I  said,  "  Go  ahead,  I  will  do  all  I  can  to  support 
you!"  And  when  that  brother's  zeal  ran  down,  and  he 
returned  to  his  bench,  I  cannot  tell  you  how  deep  and 
secret  the  inquiry  that  went  into  my  heart,  why  not  take 
up  his  purpose  and  carry  it  out? 

This  kindled  a  smouldering  fire,  that  sometimes  almost 
broke  out  into  a  blaze.  Then  I  would  throw  on  ashes  to 
smother  it.  I  had  at  this  time  made  for  myself  a  full  set  of 
tools.  I  had  accumulated  some  money.  My  prospect  for 
business  was  not  a  little  inviting.  To  relinquish  such  stock 
in  trade,  and  the  fruit  of  years,  gave  me  pause.  Then,  again, 
I  might  not  succeed  as  a  minister  :  I  could  succeed  as  a 
mechanic.  There  was  much  risk  of  spoiling  a  good  clock- 
maker  for  a  poor  preacher.  With  such  reasoning,  for  a  time 
I  silenced  conviction.      I  continued  active  in   the  Sunday- 


20  REV.  HORACE   EATON,   D.D. 

school  and  in  the  prayer-meetings,  and  was  sometimes  sent 
out  to  speak  in  schoolhouses.  Here  I  was  frequently  plied 
with  the  question,  "Do  you  never  feel  that  you  ought  to 
prepare  to  preach  the  gospel  ?  " 

In  this  state  of  mind  I  heard  Dr.  Labaree  cf  ]\Iiddlebury 
give  an  account  of  the  destitution  at  the  West.  I  read  the 
Bible,  and  prayed  over  this  question.  I  found  Paul  made 
one  part  of  a  call  to  the  ministry  a  strong  desire  to  glorify 
God  in  that  way.  His  word  is,  "If  any  man  desire  the  office." 
That  desire  I  had.  But  the  desire  for  the  office  without  the 
ability,  the  aptness  to  teach,  the  natural  readiness  to  commu- 
nicate truth,  could  not  be  "  a  call."  A  thirst  for  the  work  I 
had ;  but  of  my  ability  I  wot  not. 

At  this  time  I  read  some  remarks  of  Professor  Haddock  of 
Dartmouth  College,  on  the  true  qualifications  of  a  candidate 
for  the  ministry.  I  could  come  up  to  no  such  standard. 
Again,  for  a  time,  the  ghost  downed.  My  convictions  were 
silenced.  In  this  oasis  of  comparative  rest,  the  pastor  of  the 
churcli  came  to  me,  inquiring  with  much  earnestness,  "Do 
you  not  think  you  should  leave  your  trade  for  the  ministry?" 
I  threw  before  him  Professor  Haddock's  pamphlet.  He 
replied,  that  was  an  ideal  perfection,  that  flesh  and  blood 
could  not  bear  such  a  test,  not  even  the  professor  himself. 
From  this  pressure  I  found  no  retreat.  "  While  I  kept 
silence,  my  bones  waxed  old."  "Day  and  night  his  hand 
was  heavy  upon  me.  My  moisture  was  turned  into  the 
drouQ-ht  of  summer."  There  were  moments  when  it  seemed 
that  life  would  go  out  of  me.  One  afternoon,  as  I  was  passing 
alone  through  a  pasture,  I  turned  aside  to  a  clump  of  pines. 
I  fell  prostrate  on  the  ground  and  cried  with  all  my  heart, 
"Lord,  what  wilt  thou  have  me  to  do?  Show  me,  and  I  will 
do  it.  ]\fake  my  path  plain,  and  I  will  walk  in  it."  I  think 
the  submission  Avas  honest  and  complete.  The  burden  fell 
off.     I  found  light  in  the  Lord. 

The  question  of  duty  was  now  accepted  and  before  me, 
but  not  decided.  .  .  .  God  would  not  call  me  to  a  long 
course  of  education,  and  shut  me  up  as  to  means.  So  far  as 
I  could  see,  not  a  dollar  was  at  my  command  from  any  other 


THE  APPRENTICE.  21 

source  than  my  own  exertions.  I  never  had  begged.  I  did 
not  propose  that  method.  I  remembered  that  Paul  had  said, 
"  These  hands  have  ministered  to  my  necessities."  Mine  can 
and  shall  do  the  same.  I  was  confident  I  had  a  better  trade 
than  Paul.  I  will  ask  no  charity.  I  will  absorb  no  funds 
that  may  help  another.  If  I  do  or  do  not  go  into  the 
ministry,  I  will  keep  no  other  one  out.  To  me  "  the  call " 
was  made  out.  My  mind  was  clear  and  at  rest.  I  was 
courageous  for  the  undertaking. 


CHAPTER  III. 
1833-1839, 

PHILLIPS   ACADEMY,   ANDOVER,   MASS. — DABTMOUTH 
COLLEGE. 

During  the  two  years  from  1833  to  1835,  Mr.  Eaton  was  a  student  at 
Phillips  Academy,  Andover,  Mass. 

From  the  time  of  entering  this  school,  with  but  few  interruptions 
until  his  death,  he  kept  a  regular  diary.  The  early  records  are  volumi- 
nous. Every  week  of  every  year  can  be  reviewed.  Occupations,  passing 
events,  travels,  are  noted.  So  are  the  services  of  each  Sabbath,  While  ■ 
at  Andover  and  at  college  we  have  sketches  of  the  sermons  to  which  he 
listened.  Sometimes  several  pages  are  devoted  to  one  which  "fed  his 
soul." 

In  his  earlier  journals  we  find  a  conscientious  account  of  his  inner 
spiritual  life.  As  the  years  go  on,  they  show  less  of  this  minute  and 
severe  introspection.  "AVhile  he  does  not  afterward  neglect  the  command, 
"  Examine  yourselves  whether  ye  be  in  the  faith,"  the  eye  is  ever  out- 
ward toward  Christ;    the  pious  peasant's  couplet,  one  of    his  favorite 

mottoes  :  — 

"  I'm  a  poor  sinner,  and  nothing  at  all ; 

But  Jesus  Christ  is  my  all,  and  in  all." 
He  commences  his  diary  with  a  series  of  resolutions  :  — 
Andover,  Mass.,  Jan.  5,  1834.     Resolved  :  — 

1.  That  my  motives  shall  grow  out  of  a  sense  that  I  am 
"not  my  own,"  but  that  I  have  been  "bought  with  a  price." 

2.  That  I  will  do  nothing  out  of  pride  or  vain  glory,  re- 
venge or  envy,  but  that  love  to  God  and  love  to  man  shall 
always  be  my  princi})les  of  action. 

3.  That  I  will  each  day  converse  with  some  impenitent 
individual  and  some  Christian  brother,  and  labor  for  a  revival 
of  religion. 

4.  That  from  the  time  I  rise  th  the  time  I  retire  I  will  not 
lose  one  moment  of  time,  but  will  improve  it  to  the  best 
advantage. 


PHILLIPS  ACADEMY.  23 

5.  That  I  will  undertake  nothing  but  what  is  duty,  and 
that  I  will  thoroughly  and  in  earnest  accomplish  it.  If  study- 
ing, I  will  master  my  lesson.  I  will  avoid  a  loose  manner  of 
doing  any  thing. 

6.  At  the  close  of  the  day  I  will  review  my  conduct  and 
see  if  it  accords  with  these  resolutions,  and  write  down  the 
most  remarkable  events  of  each  day  in  this  book. 

Andover,  Mass.,  Jan.  6,  1834.  We  were  addressed  to-day 
by  Mr.  George  Champion,  from  the  seminary,  who  is  destined 
to  the  south-eastern  part  of  Africa  to  a  tribe  called  the  Zulus. 
May  I,  with  holy  avarice,  turn  all  the  shreds  of  time  into 
value  more  precious  than  rubies,  such  as  will  satisfy  a 
dying-bed. 

Jan.  13.  Studied  close  to-day.  We  had  a  good  meeting 
in  the  evening.  Young  converts  took  part  in  the  exercises. 
Those  new  songs  !     They  are  music  ! 

Jan.  19.  TJiis  has  been  one  of  the  days  of  heaven  to  my 
soul.  I  have  had  that  joy  which  is  unspeakable,  and  full  of 
glory.  Dr.  Skinner  preached  in  the  afternoon,  on  missions. 
I  visited  some  families,  and  proposed  to  establish  a  prayer- 
meeting  among  them,  which  they  seemed  willing  to  attend. 

Jan.  26.  Sabbath.  This  has  been  a  good  day.  Went  this 
evening  to  the  factory ;  held  a  prayer-meeting.  The  Lord 
was  with  us  and  blessed  us. 

Jan.  29.  Much  driven  in  my  studies,  but  find  some  of  the 
hidden  manna  to  feed  upon.  Had  a  letter  from  Brother  H. 
to-day.  He  writes  that  Brother  C.  is  in  New  Orleans.  I 
have  much  anxiety  for  my  dear  friends,  but  all  I  can  do 
is  to  commend  them  to  my  heavenly  Father,  who  has  so 
signally  blessed  us  as  a  family. 

Feb.  3.  Theological  Seminary  missionary-meeting.  Mr. 
Champion  presented  a  report.  Mr.  C.  has  given  $40,000  to 
the  missionary  cause,  and  expects  to  go  himself  as  a  herald 
of  salvation  to  South  Africa  the  next  December.  His  soul 
burns  with  the  love  of  Jesus.  In  the  spirit  of  his  Master,  he 
inquired  why  the  heathen  were  not  converted.  He  proved 
it  was  not  in  the  heart  of  God  ...  It  was  not  the  hinder- 
ances  in  heathen  lands ;   that  these  were  not  half  equal  to 


24  ItEV.   HORACE   EATON,   D.D. 

those  in  primitive  times,  which  were  then  overcome.  "  The 
obstacles,"  he  said,  "hiyin  the  hearts  of  Christians."  Our 
sins  have  separated  between  us  and  our  God. 

jMarch  22.  This  day  has  been  spent  by  about  forty  students 
of  our  academy  in  putting  a  tract  into  every  house  in  the  town 
of  Andover.  I  visited  about  thirty  families.  In  general  the 
tracts  were  gladly  received. 

Feb.  1,  1835.  Heard  Dr.  Leonard  Woods  preach  a  sermon 
in  relation  to  the  death  of  Messrs.  jNIunson  and  Lyman,  mis- 
sionaries to  Sumatra,  who  were  killed  and  devoured  by  the 

natives. 

Andover,  Mass.,  Dec.  21,  1834. 

My  dear  Mother, —  ...  I  have  not  forgotten  you. 
As  you  pass  down  the  declivity  of  life,  my  love  for  you 
strengthens.  I  feel  desirous  that  your  sun,  which  has  so 
long  been  overcast  with  clouds,  should  set  in  calm  serenity. 
. '.  .  You  ask  me  how  I  succeed  at  school.  All  I  can  tell 
you  is,  I  love  to  study,  and  I  study  hard.  My  health  has 
been  good,  and  other  things  are  favorable.  As  to  my  soul,  I 
find  much  remaining  depravity,  inuch  pride  and  love  of  the 
world,  bidding  me  sigh  for  "  the  flesh-pots  of  Egypt."  But 
yet  I  believe  I  can  say  with  Paul,  "  I  desire  to  know  nothing 
but  Jesus  Christ  and  him  crucified,"  and  am  determined  to 
make  the  most  of  this  short  life  in  extending  the  knowledge 
of  his  gospel.  Oh  for  grace,  wisdom,  and  energy  to  press 
on,  never  turning  to  the  right  or  to  the  left  until  I  have 
finished  my  work,  and  obtained  my  crown. 

I  shall  enter  college  next  fall.  .  .  .  Please  preserve  the  num- 
bers of  tlie  "N.  Y.  Evangelist"  and  "  N.  Y.  Observer"  I  have 
sent  you.  Would  you  not  like  the  "Missionary  Herald" 
also?  .  .  .  Receive  this  three  dollars.     I  hope  to  send  you 

more  hereafter. 

Your  affectionate  son, 

Horace  Eaton. 

And  here  it  should  be  stated  that,  although  his  mother  was  now  ten- 
derly cared  for  by  his  brothers  and  sisters,  he  felt  that  he  could  not  be 
denied  the  privilege  of  occasional  gifts.  In  his  greatest  pecuniary  straits 
he  rarely  failed  in  every  letter  to  enclose  to  her  a  bill  of  three  or  five 
dollars. 


PHILLIPS   ACADEMY.  25 

Li  1864  he  revisits  Andover,  and  thus  aUudes  to  his  two  years  there  :  — . 

Oct,  11.  My  mind  reverted  to  my  life  at  Andover  thirty 
years  ago.  I  Avent  into  Iloom  No.  8,  House  No.  3.  In  that 
room  I  have  had  spiritual  and  mental  trials.  God  there 
often  appeared  for  my  help.  There  I  struggled  with  a  mind 
entirely  undisciplined  .  .  .  Visited  the  cemetery  back  of  the 
Old  South.  Saw  the  monuments  of  Dr.  Swift  and  the  Phil- 
lips family.  Dear  memories  connected  with  Professor  Stuart, 
Dr.  Woods,  Mr.  Johnson,  B.  B.  Edwards,  were  revived  by 
visiting  their  chaste  and  beautiful  monuments.  "  Squire 
Farrar"  has  no  monument.  Tliose  dormitories  built  by  him 
for  the  students  of  Phillips  Academy  are  his  monument  in 
many  hearts.  Called  on  Mrs.  Edwards.  She  is  very  kind  to 
my  boys.     God  bless  her ! 

The  following  letter  reveals  his  life  at  Phillips  Academy,  and  his  love 
for  that  favored  institution  :  — 

Palmyra,  N.Y.,  May  28,  1878. 

Rev.  C.  F.  P.  Bancroft,  Pli.D.,  Chairman  of  Committee 
of  Arrangements  for  Centennial  Celebration,  Phillips  Acad- 
emy, Andover,  Mass. :  — 

One  side  of  Gray's  monument  at  Stoke  Pogis  has  en- 
graved upon  its  face  a  verse  of  the  Elegy,  and  is  turned 
toward  "the  country  churchyard."  Another  side  looks 
toward  the  spires  of  Eton  College,  and  records  a  stanza  of 
the  poet's  ode  to  this  place  of  his  early  training. 

At  the  call  of  Phillips  Academy  to  her  centennial,  a  chord 
responsive  vibrates  in  the  breast  of  every  one  of  her  thou- 
sand sons;  and  those  farthest  on,  with  the  sentiments  of 
Gray,  can  turn  from  the  evening,  the  "  elegy  of  life,"  to  the 
gilded  spot  where  dawned  their  intellectual  morning:  — 

Ah,  happy  hills !  ah,  pleasing  shade  ! 
I  feel  the  gales  that  from  ye  blow 
A  momentary  bliss  bestow, 

As,  waving  fresh  their  gladsome  wing. 
My  weary  soul  they  seem  to  soothe, 
And,  redolent  of  joy  and  youth, 

To  breathe  a  second  spring. 


26  REV.   HORACE   EATON.   D.D. 

Time  has  no  tendency  to  effiice  the  memory  of  my 
entrance  into  Phillips  Academy.  A  conviction  of  duty, 
that  would  not  down,  drove  me  from  my  native  crag,  from 
the  most  rocky  town  in  the  Granite  State,  from  the  most 
rocky  town  in  the  world,  to  Andover.  With  sore  feet  and 
budget  in  hand,  I  crossed  the  Shawsheen  Valley,  came 
around  by  the  "  old  white  meeting-house,"  and  climbed  the 
hill.  That  evening  I  n?,et  the  eye  of  "  Squire  Farrar,"  paid 
the  usual  fee,  five  dollars,  and  was  assigned  to  "  room  num- 
ber three,  house  number  three,  Latin  Commons."  That 
night  my  pillow  was  as  lonely  and  as  hard  as  that  of  the 
man  at  Luz.  The  next  morning  the  bell  summoned  me  to 
"  The  Old  Brick."  On  my  way  a  solitude  came  over  me  like 
night.  I  followed  with  hesitating  step.  The  bell  had  just 
stopped  as  I  stole  into  the  great  room,  when  the  gaze  of  one 
hundred  and  fifty  quizzical  faces  threw  the  poor  wight  into 
confusion  and  into  the  nearest  and  lowest  seat.  Then  I 
knew  the  heart  of  a  stranger.  But  when  I  heard  the 
familiar  words  of  the  New  Testament  read  in  turn  by  the 
scholars,  when  I  heard  the  old  hymns  in  old  tunes,  when  I 
heard  the  clear,  soft  tones  of  the  principal,  Mr.  Oliver  John- 
son, and  listened  to  his  tender  and  appropriate  supplications 
as  he  led  the  morning  devotions,  I  felt  that  "  God  was  in 
that  place,"  that  I  was  no  longer  an  alien  or  alone.  I  took 
heart.  I  went  to  my  teacher  for  my  task,  to  my  room,  to 
Adams'  Latin  Grammar ;  and  for  forty-five  years  since  that 
morning  I  have  not  had  a  moment  of  uncertainty,  loneliness, 
or  discouragement. 

Phillips  Academy  has  ever  been  the  poor  boy's  friend. 
Gratitude  compels  the  acknowledgment.  It  has  been  the 
grindstone  for  dull  scythes.  When  I  entered  the  school,  my 
mind,  untrained  "as  a  bullock  unaccustomed  to  the  yoke," 
drew  back  from  continuous  thought.  My  efforts  to  hold  my 
attention  to  a  point  were  like  attempting  to  balance  a  barrel 
upon  the  tines  of  a  pitchfork.  Samuel  H.  Taylor  put  the 
harness  on  my  wayward  brain,  and  by  goad  and  rein 
obliged  it  to  keep  the  furrow,  and  "to  harrow  the  valleys 
after"  him.     Samuel  H.  Taylor  broke  me  in. 


PHILLIPS  ACADEMY,  27 

Beside  this  daily  discipline  in  the  school,  the  whole  spirit 
and  atmosphere  on  the  hill  were  tonic.  The  Theological 
Seminary  contributed  to  clear,  elevate,  and  confirm  the  pur- 
poses of  an  uncultured  youth.  To  me  that  old  chapel  was 
the  very  Holy  of  holies.  Sabbaths  so  impressive  and  so  still 
I  have  never  since  enjoyed.  Such  sermons  I  have  never 
since  heard.  I  had  seen  Dr.  "  Porter's  Analysis  " ;  I  had 
read  of  Dr.  Woods;  a  student  had  described  to  me  the 
Hebrew  and  Greek  of  "  Rabbi  Moses  '  -A  but  at  the  sight  of 
these  three  men  I  felt  that  the  half  had  not  been  told  me. 
Variety  in  unity,  they  were  each  the  complement  to  each  in 
a  perfected  whole.  The  word  from  their  lips  preserved  the 
balance,,  and  kept  "  the  proportion  of  faith."  The  first  time 
I  listened  to  Dr.  Woods,  his  sermon  was  on  the  love  of  God, 
the  theme  the  same,  morning  and  afternoon ;  and  as  he  was 
long  preaching,  even  to  the  going-down  of  the  sun,  he  began 
to  wax  warm.  First  he  ventured  to  raise  one  hand,  then  the 
other  hand ;  .then  he  threw  both  arms  into  the  air,  and,  for- 
getting his  notes,  poured  out  a  torrent  of  thought  and  holy 
emotion,  which,  if  it  did  not  lift  the  rafters,  raised  the  audi- 
ence into  a  rapture  of  amazement  and  delight :  it  was  grand. 
Professor  Emerson,  like  a  "  true  master  of  assemblies,"  drove 
and  clinched  the  nail  as  he  preached  from  the  text,  "  My 
heart  is  fixed,  O  God,  my  heart  is  fixed."  On  one  Sabbath 
we  were  surprised  to  find  Dr.  Taylor,  from  New  Haven,  in 
the  pulpit,  and  to  hear  from  the  words,  "  Make  you  a  new 
heart."  It  seemed  to  us  singularly  providential  that  Dr. 
Tyler  should  soon  follow  Dr.  Taylor  upon  the  subject  of 
unconditional  election,  from  the  text,  "  I  have  much  people 
in  this  city."  As  those  who  watch  for  the  morning,  so  we 
waited  to  hear  Dr.  Lyman  Beecher  from  the  West ;  nor  did 
we  wait  in  vain. 

The  students  of  the  seminary,  as  well  as  the  professors^ 
were  a  blessing  to  the  academy.  There  were  stars  then 
among  th^m  of  the  first  magnitude.  Some  still  shine  in 
these  lower  heavens :  others  have  been  transferred  to  the 
constellations  above.     Hackett  and  Humphrey  were  among 

1  Professor  Moses  Stuart. 


28  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

those  who  gathered  i;s  into  Bible  cLasses.  Asa  D.  Smith 
took  fifty  of  us  throiigli  Edwards  "On  the  Affections."  Some 
hopes  were  settled;  some  were  ?o;settled.  A  band  conse- 
crated to  the  foreign  field  kept  the  missionary  spirit  aflame. 
We  Avere  suddenly  called  together  one  evening,  to  hear  Dr. 
Wisner  of  Boston  announce  that  Lyman  and  Alunson  had 
been  murdered  by  cannibals.  Said  the  secretary  of  the 
board,  "  Do  not  these  murderers  need  the  gospel  ?  Who  of 
you  will  go  to  Sumatra?"  And  many  a  heart  responded, 
"  Here  am  I ;  send  me."     There  was  power  in  that  hour. 

The  year  1834  was  crowned  by  a  genuine  revival.  The 
fruit  remained.  Sixty  of  our  number  were  converted. 
Many  became  ministers.  In  a  crisis  of  great  solicitude,  lest 
the  work  should  stop,  a  prayer-meeting  was  continued  in 
House  No.  3  during  the  entire  night.  At  the  dawn  of  the 
day,  Rev.  Dr.  John  P.  Gulliver,  an  inmate  of  that  house, 
came  into  the  light  of  the  gospel. 

I  am  grateful  to  Phillips  Academy  for  what  it  did  not  do 
for  me.  While  it  encouraged  climbing,  it  did  not  boost.  It 
helped  indirectly,  by  stimulating  the  poor  fellow  to  help 
himself.  It  stretched  the  sinews  of  exertion  without  cut- 
ting them.  It  cherished  self-reliance  and  self-resjiect.  Be- 
side my  tuition,  I  know  not  that  I  received  a  gratuitous 
penny.  I  went  to  Andover  with  hard  hands.  I  knew  no 
hours  of  leisure  or  recreation.  When  not  at  my  studies  or 
religious  duties,  I  was  digging  rocks  for  Mr.  Farley,  on  the 
farm,  at  eiglit  cents  an  hour,  or  taking  care  of  Dr.  Skinner's 
horse,  or  sawing,  splitting,  piling  wood,  for  Professor  Stuart, 
perhaps  dressing  his  garden.  lie  liked  my  work  because  I 
could  keep  up  with  him.  He  called  me  "  the  fast  and  the 
faithful,"  The  silver  shekel  he  paid  me  was  always  of  full 
weight.  What  I  valued  still  more  were  the  golden  words  of 
wisd(jm  which  he  threw  out  as  we  worked. 

But,  after  the  manner  of  Paul,  I  had  a  craft,  and  I  worked 
at  it.  I  could  fix  clocks  well.  Here  my  i/ctics  helped  my 
tactics.  J\Iy  clock-curacy  embraced  those  in  the  highest  sta- 
tions,—  the  regulator  on  the  steeple  of  the  seminary,  the 
chronometer  of  Governor  Phillips  at  the  Mansion  House, 


PHILLIPS  ACADEMY.  '  29 

not  excluding  even  the  plebeian  wooden  clock  that  ticked 
behind  the  door.  I  ministered  to  my  permanent  charge 
around  the  hill  on  Saturday  afternoons.  In  vacations,  like 
the  tinker  of  Elstow,  I  practiced  my  art  in  itinerant  circuits 
throughout  the  neighboring  parishes.  Two  years  of  this 
method  of  life  enabled  me  to  leave  Andover  for  Dartmouth, 
improved  in  pocket  and  wardrobe,  and  fitted  to  sustain  a 
creditable  examination  for  the  freshman  class. 

In  the  summer  of  1835,  George  Tliompson  from  England 
came  to  Andover  with  a  messaofe  as^ainst  American  slavery. 
At  the  report  of  this,  the  "Cotton  King"  stretched  out  his 
sceptre  over  Phillips  Academy  with  tlie  edict,  "Silence," 
"  White  lips."  Some  of  us,  in  the  good  or  evil  spirit  of 
one  Sceva,  a  Jew,  answered,  "  Jesus  we  know,  and  Paul  we 
know;  but  who  are  ye?"  The  storm  thus  evoked  was  with 
voices  and  thunderings;  but,  when  past,  the  moral  atmos- 
phere was  purified.  Some,  then  censured  for  their  firmness 
against  slavery,  have  had  sons  in  the  same  seats,  who  joined 
their  teachers  in  the  academy,  the  professors  and  students  in 
the  seminary,  and  that  in  the  old  chapel  on  the  Sabbath 
day,  in  applauding  the  announcement  that  Lincoln  had  pro- 
claimed liberty  to  the  captives,  that  Lee  had  surrendered, 
that  Jefferson  Davis  had  been  taken !  The  logic  of  events 
has  vindicated  the  erect  ratlier  than  the  subservient  attitude 
in  Phillips  Academy  in  1835. 

With  sincere  regret  that  I  cannot  be  present  at  the  cen- 
tennial, Very  respectfully. 

Your  obedient  servant, 

Horace  Eaton. 

The  events  referred  to  in  the  latter  part  of  the  foregoing  letter  have  a 
comical  aspect  when  viewed  across  the  distance  of  forty-nine  years.  In 
the  "  Earlier  Annals  of  Phillips  Academy  "  we  find  a  humorous  account 
of  the  same  facts  :  — 

"  In  June,  1835,  during  the  heat  of  the  antislavery  agitation,  the  elo- 
quent George  Thompson,  M.P.,  of  England,  came  to  this  peaceful  town, 
and  lectured  night  after  night  in  the  old  ]\Iethodist  church,  long  since 
removed,  which  then  stood  on  Main  Street,  at  the  foot  of  tlie  hill. 
Young  America  awoke  in  earnest.  What  can  we  do  for  the  slave  ?  The 
cause  was  first  taken  up  by  the  debating-clubs.     The  Porter  Rhetorical 


30  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

Society  of  the  seminary  opened  her  guns.  She  Mas  answered  by  a  salute 
from  the  Social  Fraternity.  The  artillery  of  the  Philomathean  Society, 
always  prompt  in  the  cause  of  freedom,  roared  in  sympathetic  chorus. 
The  great  remedy  for  slavery,  hidden'from  all  past  ages,  is  now  made 
known.  We  must  have  an  antislavery  society  in  Phillips  Academy. 
The  teachers  were  consulted.  '  Cannot  the  formation  of  the  society  be 
postponed  ? '  Perish  the  revolting  thought !  Three  millions  of  slaves 
were  in  bondage.  Their  longing  eyes  are  turned  toward  Andover  hill. 
Their  owners  are  seen  to  tremble.  The  lash  is  susi:)ended  until  Phillips 
Academy  shall  decide  the  issue.  The  walls  of  Jericho  have  been  ob- 
served to  totter,  and  one  blast  from  the  academic  ram's  horn  will  bring 
them  down.  Professor  Stuart,  however,  did  not  see  it  in  this  light.  He 
suddenly  met  a  youth  in  whom  he  was  interested.i 

"  '  Here,  what  are  you  in  this  business  for  ? '  — '  Because  my  conscience 
enjoins  it,'  was  the  reply.  '  Your  conscience  ;  talk  about  your  conscience  : 
where  did  you  get  your  conscience  ? '  —  '  By  hearing  you  preach  two  years,' 
answered  the  boy.  The  use  of  the  academy  building  was  asked  for  a 
meeting  in  which  to  form  an  abolition  society.  It  was  refused.  The 
Old  South  Church  was  refused  also.  The  students  then,  like  the  Cove- 
nanters, fled  to  the  open  air,  and  Indian  Ridge  has  ever  since  tlieir  day 
been  sacred  to  tlie  historian  as  well  as  to  the  geologist.  A  memorial  was 
addressed  to  the  faculty,  long,  but  moderate  and  respectful  in  tone,  con- 
sidering the  intense  excitement  prevailing.  The  news  brought  back  to 
the  seat  of  Avar  George  Thompson,  who  expounded  the  first  chapter  of 
Isaiah.  Unhappy  man  !  At  the  sound  of  exegesis.  Professor  Stuart  took 
fire.  He  came  forward  with  'Philemon  and  Onesimus.'  Seven  thunders 
uttered  their  voices;  and  the  Greek  accents,  always  hateful  to  the  young 
mind,  were  made  to  retard  the  progress  of  freedom.  The  issue  was,  tliat 
six  weeks  before  the  close  of  the  term  thirty-five  left  the  institution  with 
a  qualified  dismission.^ 

"  There  are  those  who,  looking  at  the  occurrence  in  the  light  of  subse- 
quent events,  maintain  that  the  scholars  were  the  first  to  feel  the  breath 
of  the  coming  era,  and  anticipated  the  progress  of  freedom  more  clearly 
than  their  conservative  advisers." 

From  journal  on  entering  Dartmouth  College  :  — 

Aug.  28,  1835.  After  passing  a  satisfactory  examination, 
■was  admitted  to  the  privileges  of  Dartmouth  College.  Some 
ten  years  ago  I  passed  through  this  place,  on  foot  and  alone, 

1  This  youth  was  Horace  Eaton. 

'  Among  these  thirty-five  was  the  subject  of  this  sketch. 


DARTMOUTH   COLLEGE.  31 

on  my  way  to  St.  Albans.  Little  did  I  then  think,  while  in 
my  rustic  garb  I  beheld  this  institution  with  eyes  of  wonder, 
that  after  so  long  an  interval  I  should  enter  it.  But  how 
blessed  to  follow  where  Infinite  Wisdom  directs !  How  safe 
to  trust  Infinite  Love !  He  has  been  with  me  in  the  house 
and  by  the  way ;  and  my  years  have  been  years  of  the  right 
hand  of  the  Most  High. 

Hanover,  N.H.,  Oct.  9,  1835. 

My  dear  Sister,  — ...  Although  I  am  anxious  to  know 
of  your  earthly  welfare,  I  desire  most  of  all  to  hear  of  the 
health  of  your  soul.  Oh,  dear  R.,  learn  the  poiver  of  prayer. 
Get  the  spirit  of  prayer.  Pray  "till  you  feel  your  heart 
ascending  near  the  throne."  Pray  punctually.  Pray  with 
all  perseverance,  and  take  fast  hold  of  the  promises.  .  .  . 

In  common  with  many  college  students  of  those  times,  his  traveling 
was  usually  on  foot. 

.  .  .  The  day  I  left  you,  I  reached  Hanover;  but  it  was  the 
hardest  day's  work  I  ever  performed.  I  was  wet  and  almost 
ingulfed  in  the  mud.  I  wound  my  way  over  those  dreary 
hills  in  hopes  of  reaching  Canaan.  I  thought  I  kept  the 
direction,  but  on  inquiry  found  I  had  lost  my  way,  and  was 
going  to  Dorchester.  I  came  to  the  end  of  the  road,  up  in 
a  pasture  where  was  a  log-house.  All  I  could  learn  was  the 
lonesome  fact  that  I  was  on  Orange  Hill.  I  went  out,  not 
knowing- whither  I  went.  Never  before,  since  the  memorable 
year  we  made  sugar  under  the  hill  by  Stevens'  Brook,  have  I 
felt  the  meaning  of  the  word  "  lost."  But  I  sauntered  on, 
and  to  my  great  surprise  came  to  my  old  track,  where  I  took 
new  courage,  and  made  the  best  of  my  way  to  Canaan,  reflect- 
ing on  my  wanderings,  and  comparing  them  with  those  of  the 
children  of  Israel  to  the  land  of  the  same  name.  .  .  . 

His  brother,  Dr.  Jacob  S.  Eaton,  wrote  him,  Jan.  2,  1882  :  — 
"  I  remember,  more  than  four  decades  ago,  after  one  of  your  vacations, 
about  this  time  of  winter,  I  carried  you  to  Danbury  Four  Corners,  a 
bitter  cold  morning,  to  pursue  your  way  on  foot  some  forty  miles  over 
the  snow-fields  to  Dartmouth  College.  "Watching  your  forced  march  up 
the  hill,  pity  melted  my  heart  to  tears  as  you  signalled  to  me  '  Good-by.' " 


32  REV.   HORACE   EATON,   D.D. 

Dartmouth  College,  Jan.  11,  1836.  I  want  the  light  of 
heaven  to  shine  upon  me  to  help  me  to  study,  to  give 
perception  and  energy  to  my  mind,  and  to  gird  me  up  for 
earnest  and  successful  research.  God  made  the  mind.  With 
liim  are  all  the  treasures  of  wisdom.  He  can  open  avenues 
to  them  M'hich  we  know  not  of,  and  pour  in  floods  of  knowl- 
edge as  well  as  salvation. 

Dartmouth  College,  April  25,  1830. 

My  dear  Mother,  —  ...  There  is  a  sentiment  impressed 
upon  the  soul,  and  written  out  in  the  form  of  a  command, 
"  Honor  thy  father  and  thy  mother  "  ;  again,  the  passage  you 
taught  me,  "  He  that  honoreth  not  his  father,  and  scorneth 
to  obey  his  mother,  the  eagles  of  the  valley  shall  pick  out  his 
eyes,  and  the  young  ravens  shall  eat  them."  I  feel  that  I 
have  broken  these  commands  in  the  da3-s  of  my  childhood 
by  my  refractory  and  wicked  spirit,  and  in  later  years,  by 
neglecting  to  write  you  as  often  as  I  ought  to  have  done. 
While  I  would  repent,  and  pray  God  to  forgive  me,  I  am 
confident  that  you  also  will  forgive  me.  .  .  .  My  health  has 
been  good.  The  constitution  I  inherit  from  you  still  remains 
firm.  I  am  regular  in  my  habits.  I  will  give  you  a  sketch 
of  the  manner  in  Avhich  I  spend  the  day,  that  you  may  know 
at  any  hour  what  your  boy  is  doing.  I  rise  at  four;  study 
till  five;  devotions  till  lia]t'-i)ast  five;  prayers  at  tiie  chapel 
till  quarter  before  six ;  lecitation  until  a  quarter  before 
seven  :  saw  wood  till  half-past  eight ;  study  till  eleven ; 
recitation  till  twelve ;  the  class  hold  a  prayer-meeting  until 
half-past  twelve  ;  dinner  until  one ;  devotions  and  other 
duties  till  two;  study  until  half-])ast  four;  recitation  until 
half-past  five  ;  prayers  in  the  chapel  till  quarter  before  six ; 
supper  till  quarter  past  six.  The  evening  till  eight  is  gen- 
erally taken  up  in  the  meetings  of  various  societies;  religious 
reading  and  prayers  from  eight  to  nine;  retire  at  nine.  Thus 
my  days  pass  rapidly  and  pleasantly  away.  .  .  . 

You  doubtless  are  anxious  to  know  where  I  design  to 
spend  my  days  shf)nld  I  be  spared  to  preach  the  gospel. 
My  dear  mother,  wlien  I  hear  from  the  West  the  call  for 
ministers,  with  a  voice  like  its  own  mighty  cataracts,  I  am 


DARTMOUTH  COLLEGE.  33 

nearly  resolved  to  pitch  my  tent  in  the  Great  Valley.  And 
again,  when  I  listen  to  the  wail  that  comes  up  from  hundreds 
of  millions,  passing  in  all  their  guilt  and  pollution  to  the  bar 
of  God,  I  am  determined  to  leave  my  friends  and  the  land  of 
my  birth,  that  I  may  be  the  means  of  plucking  one  poor 
heathen  from  his  degradation,  and  making  him  a  star  in  the 
diadem  of  Qod.  I  do  not  say  that  I  shall  go  to  foreign 
lands ;  but  I  hold  myself  ready  to  go  if  the  Lord  shall  direct. 

There  is  but  one  self-denial  at  which  my  heart  recoils. 
I  want  to  be  where  I  can  look  after  my  dear  mother  as  she 
grows  older.  To  think  of  leaving  her  who  cherished  and 
protected  me  in  infancy  and  childhood,  and  wliose  prayers 
and  blessing  have  followed  me  ever  since,  cuts  me  to  the 
quick.  But  why  should  I  borrow  trouble  when  we  know 
not  what  a  day  may  bring  fortli  ? 

Hanover  is  a  good  place.  The  Spirit  of  the  Lord  has  been 
with  us  this  term.  A  few  give  evidence  of  being  born  again. 
The  college  is  ver}^  flourishing.  Our  professors  are  all  we 
could  ask,  —  thorough  students,  devoted  Christians. 

If  it  is  possible,  I  shall  visit  you  this  sj^ring ;  if  not,  in  July. 
The  stockings  you  sent  me  were  just  in  time.  Give  my  love 
to  all  my  friends. 

Your  affectionate  son, 

Horace  Eaton. 

Dartmouth  College,  June  19,  1836. 

My  dear  Mother,  —  Rev.  Dr.  Bouton  of  Concord  has 
preached  for  us  to-day.  I  have  been  greatly  blessed.  I  always 
am  when  I  hear  him.  ...  I  am  prospered  in  all  my  efforts 
to  acquire  knowledge.  I  want  to  be  a  fit  instrument  in  the 
hands  cf  the  Holy  Spirit  for  tlie  conversion  of  men.  I  need 
learning,  I  need  strength  of  intellect:  but  I  need  lioliness 
more.  The  moon  gives  Hght ;  but  in  it  there  is  no  heat  to 
melt  the  iceberg.  So  it  is  with  that  preacher  who  is  like  a 
night  in  January,  very  clear  and  very  cold.  He  cannot 
approach  the  frozen  hearts  of  men.  He  cannot  save  them. 
Dear  mother,  pray  for  me  that  I  may  be  wholly  consecrated 
to  Christ.  .  .  . 


34  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

One  of  Mr.  Eaton's  nearest  and  most  valued  friends  during  his  aca- 
demic and  tlie  eai'lier  part  of  his  collegiate  course  was  llev.  Dr.  Samuel 
Wood,  pastor  of  the  Congregational  Church  of  Boscawen,  N.Il.  He  was 
at  that  time  far  advanced  in  life.  lie  had  fitted  scores  for  college,  among 
them  Daniel  Webster.  His  church  edifice  -was  situated  in  a  lovely  spot 
in  the  valley  of  the  Merrimack.  Spiritually,  it  was  a  city  set  on  a  hill. 
The  old  minister  loved  the  young  student  as  his  own  child ;  and  the 
latter,  in  writing  to  his  mother,  says  :  — 

I  have  found  it  good  to  reside  here.  The  influence  of  Dr. 
Wood  on  my  mind  is  like  a  heavenly  spirit  from  the  world 
of  light. 

In  the  following  letter  he  alludes  to  his  revered  friend  :  — 

Dartmouth  College,  Aug.  27,  183G. 

My  dear  Mother,  — .  .  .  At  Boscawen  I  spent  some  time 
with  the  venerable  Dr.  Wood.  I  found  him  knitting.  He 
does  this  for  exercise  and  diversion.  He  is  now  eighty-six 
years  old.  He  seems  on  the  confines  of  heaven.  He  im- 
parted to  me  some  excellent  instruction,  told  me  to  make 
his  house  my  home,  offered  me  pecuniary  assistance,  gave 
me  a  pair  of  stockings  which  he  had  knit,  and  at  the  same 
time  implored  the  benediction  of  Heaven  to  rest  upon  me. 
I  was  encouraged,  and  went  on  my  way  rejoicing. 

Dr.  Wood's  dsath  occurred  four  montlis  after.  His  spirit  was  called 
home  at  six  o'clock  one  Saturday  evening.  As  lie  had  been  brought  up 
in  the  olden  time  in  the  State  of  Connecticut,  where  many  of  the  peojile 
"kept  Saturday  night,"  this  hour  marked  the  beginning  of  lux  Sabbath. 
Mr.  Eaton  was  with  him.  Tlie  dear  old  saint  called  on  "Horace"  to 
pray.     The  solemnity  of  that  hour  was  never  forgotten.^ 

We  take  a  few  extracts  from  his  diary  written  during  a  journey  to 
Washington,  D.C.,  in  the  winter  of  1838-39.  It  was  a  season  of  intense 
political  excitement  in  Congress.  The  two  parties  were  the  Whigs  and 
the  Democrats.  Varied  and  antagonistic  were  the  interests  and  sections 
represented.  The  questions  of  banking,  internal  improvements,  tariff, 
slave  and  free  labor,  and  colonization,  awakened  heated  discussion. 
"There  were  giants   in  those  days  "  and  in  that  Congress.     There  was 

1  It  is  an  interesting  coincirlence  that  at  the  same  hour  on  Saturday  even- 
in"-,  forty -seven  years  after,  Dr.  Eaton's  young  and  beloved  successor  knelt 
by  his  bed,  and  commended  his  departing  soul  to  God.  Unable  to  speak,  he 
responded  by  raising  liis  hand. 


DARTMOUTH   COLLEGE.  35 

the  triumvirate,  "  the  three  mighty  men,"  —  Clay,  Calhoun,  and  "Webster. 
Beside  them  "  were  other  honorable  men,  though  they  attained  not  unto 
the  first  three." 

Castletoii,  Vt.,  Nov.  12,  1838.  Set  out  to-day  from  Hano- 
ver, intending  to  spend  the  winter  in  Washington  City,  or 
in  some  other  part  of  the  South.  .  .  . 

New  York  Cit}^  Sabbath,  Nov.  18.  At  noon  visited  the 
Five  Points  Sabbath-school.  In  this  locality  sights  met  my 
eye  that  would  have  made  the  clieek  of  darkness  pale.  But 
it  was  blessed  in  such  precincts  to  see  the  young  collected  in 
a  Sabbath-school.  The  children  were  very  noisy  when  we 
first  went  in.  There  were  nearly  one  hundred  in  a  little  room, 
and,  notwithstanding  all  their  filth,  I  never  saw  fifty  boys 
together  with  more  intelligfent  faces.  There  was  not  a  thick 
skull  among  them,  or  a  sleepy  hair  on  one  of  their  heads, 
though  they  were  all  rogues. 

At  Philadelphia,  Nov.  21.  Started  from  New  York  on 
board  a  steamer.  At  a  distance  of  some  thirty  miles  from 
the  city,  exchanged  the  boat  for  a  railroad-car.  In  this 
way  we  proceeded  some  thirty-five  miles  farther,  to  Borden- 
town,  N.J.  At  B.  we  again  took  a  boat  and  glided  down 
the  Delaware  to  this  beautiful  city  of  William  Penn,  arriving 
just  at  dark. 

Washington,  Nov.  26.  In  returning  from  Georgetown  to- 
day, I  met  a  colored  man.  After  mutual  salutations,  I  said, 
"  Whose  man  are  you  ?"  —  "  My  own."  —  "  How  is  that  ?  "  — 
"I  bought  myself." —  "  For  how  much  ?  "  — '^$490." — 
"Well,  what  do  you  do  now?"  — "I  labor  for  the  Canal 
Company."  —  "  Wliat  do  you  earn  ?  "  —  "  One  dollar  a  day." 
—  "What  do  you  do  with  your  wages?"  —  "I  bu't  me  a 
place  for  $450,  and  shall  pay  the  last  soon."  Here  we  came 
to  a  church  that  is  building.  I  asked,  "Do  you  attend 
church?"  —  "  I'm  a  Methodist."  —  "Do  you  hope  you  have 
i-eligion ?  "  —  "I  don't  hope  at  all :  I  feel  the  love  of  Christ." 
He  spoke  of  one  of  the  brethren  of  his  church  who  was  now 
"  in  the  pen,  ready  to  be  bidden  off,"  —  a  bold  man,  of  good 
talents  and  good  heart,  who  was  expecting  to  become  a 
preacher.     "  Our  male  members,"  said  lie,  "  have  raised  $450, 


36  REV.   HORACE   EATON,   D.D. 

and  the  female  $420,  and  we're  going  to  bu}'  him."     He  told 

me    how  the  president  of College  had  lateh'  sold  four 

hundred  slaves  to  the  ex-governor  of  Mississippi,  and  that 
they  had  all  been  shipped  to  the  cotton  and  rice  fields  of  that 
land  of  death. 

Nov.  27.  Read  Shakespeare  to-day.  Visited  the  Capitol. 
Found  the  name  of  John  Quincy  Adams  left  at  the  seat 
he  had  chosen.  The  Representatives'  Hall,  having  been 
thoroughly  repaired,  the  order  of  the  seats  has  been  changed. 
Punctuality  is  one  of  the  crowning  virtues  of  tlie  ex-Presi- 
dent. Among  the  first  who  arrived,  prompt  at  his  duty,  he 
selected  his  seat.  As  he  is  somewhat  deaf,  he  chf)se  one  near 
the  speaker.  Tlie  reputation  of  this  man  is  most  enviable, 
even  among  his  enemies.  He  is  noted  for  his  plain,  repub- 
lican manner  of  life,  his  independence,  honor,  and  generosity. 
He  owns  a  good  deal  of  property  here  in  houses  and  lands. 
He  paid  $25,000  for  the  erection  of  Columbian  College  in 
this  city,  and  tlie  same  sum  to  the  Canal  Compau}^,  which,  I 
am  told,  is  all  sunk. 

Sabbath,  Dec.  2.  Went  to  church  in  the  morning,  and 
came  away  lean,  unsatisfied,  forsaken.  The  fact  was,  I  went 
more  to  see  an  old  man  whose  breath  is  in  his  nostrils  than 
to  commune  with  the  Eternal  One  ;  with  more  curiosity  in 
regard  to  the  President  of  the  United  States  than  reverence 
for  the  Lord  of  the  wliole  earth.  The  consequence  wAs,  the 
sanctuary  was  robbed  of  all  its  glory,  and  my  soul  of  all  holy 
pleasure. 

Dec.  9.  Met  with  the  Sabbath-school  this  morning.  I  have 
never  fallen  in  with  a  more  warm-liearted  or  Avorking  class  of 
Christians.  I  sliall  long  remember  ]\Ir.  W.,  Mr.  S.,  and  others. 
May  I  at  last  meet  them  in  heaven!  Another  fact,  —  this 
church  is  nearly  or  quite  free  from  all  complicity  with  slavery. 
Some  have  told  me  they  loathed  and  abhorred  it,  and 
esteemed  it  the  blighting  and  mildew  of  all  that  is  good. 
Was  called  upon  to  address  the  Sabbath-school.  Was  glad 
of  an  tJi^portunity  once  more  to  reconnnend  the  Saviour. 
May  the  Lord  add  his  blessing ! 

Dec.  11.     The    Senate   to-day  was  a  place  of  more  than 


DARTMOUTH   COLLEGE.  37 

common  interest,  not  on  account  of  the  business,  but  Henry 
Clay  had  arrived.  So  said  the  paper.  I  Avas  curious  to 
recognize  him,  if  possible,  from  his  known  character  and  por- 
trait. This  I  was  not  able  to  do  half  so  readily  as  in  the 
case  of  Calhoun.  ...  In  the  senate-chamber  the  administra- 
tion men  —  Calhoun,  Benton,  and  others  —  sit  on  the  right 
of  the  speaker ;  the  Whigs  —  Webster,  Clay,  Davis,  and  the 
rest  —  on  the  extreme  left. 

When  I  first  saw  ]Mr.  Calhoun,  he  sat  upright,  motionless 
in  his  seat.  I  have  never  been  so  struck  with  ease  and  grace- 
fulness of  posture  as  at  my  first  sight  of  Mr.  Clay.  Calhoun, 
in  saluting  his  friends,  was  dignified,  sparing  of  his  smiles, 
cold,  and  reserved :  but  Clay  would  rise,  reach  far  over  the 
seat,  shake  hands  most  cordially,  laugh  heartily,  and  shed  a 
blaze  of  good-feeling  all  around  him.  Clay  has  a  fair,  smooth 
forehead;  his  hair  is  brown,  a  generous  strip  of  baldness 
extends  over  his  head.  Calhoun  has  a  low,  knit  brow,  the 
thick  and  silver-gray  hair  coming  down  within  an  inch  of  his 
nose.     The  rest  of  his  countenance  is  withered  and  dry. 

Dec.  12.  This  has  been  a  high  day.  I  \vas  standing  in 
the  Rotunda  when  all  at  once  there  was  a  rush  from  the 
House  to  the  Senate.  I  joined  the  crowd.  "  Clay  is  speak- 
ing! "  was  the  cry.  But  it  turned  out  to  be  Preston  of  South 
Carolina.  Mr.  Calhoun  followed  him.  Calhoun  was  more 
nervous  in  his  expression,  less  frequent  but  more  violent  in 
his  gestures,  clearer  in  his  propositions,  than  Preston.  He 
spoke  in  condemnation  of  the  tariff,  and  hurled  at  Clay  his 
heaviest  bolt.  Although  it  struck  Clay  with  tremendous 
force,  he  did  not  flutter,  but  rose  very  modestly,  and  began 
farthest  from  the  point  of  attack,  as  though  no  allusion  had 
been  made  to  himself.  But  he  kept  coiling  around,  and  gath- 
ering in,  until  he  came  with  concentrated  power  \\\)on  his 
antagonist  and  the  executive  chair.  He  fairly  parried  the 
blow,  and  then  turned  it  with  redoubled  force  upon  his 
enemies.  He  showed  up  the  inconsistency  of  General  Jack- 
son in  the  distribution  of  the  supplies,  and  yet  condemning 
the  deposit  act.  Silas  Wright  of  New  York,  Rives  of  Vir- 
ginia, Brown  of  North  Carolina,  followed. 


38  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

Sabballi,  Dec.  15.  Attended  Wesley  Chapel.  Heard  Rev. 
Georse  G.  Cookman.  Mr.  C.  is  the  most  distin/xuished 
preacher,  the  most  eloquent  minister,  in  the  city.  His  soul 
was  inspired,  and  his  tongue  touched  by  the  poetry  of  the 
Psalms  and  the  prophets.  His  quotations  were  most  appro- 
priate. He  repeated  with  great  effect  the  first  of  that  beau- 
tiful song  in  the  third  chapter  of  Habakkuk,  "God  came 
from  Teman,  and  the  Holy  One  from  jNIount  Paran.  His 
glory  covered  the  heavens,  and  the  earth  was  full  of  his 
praise,"  etc.  How  valuable  a  ready  aptness  in  repeating  the 
impressive  parts  of  the  Old  Testament!     They  never  tire. 

Dec.  17.  This  has  been  another  high  day.  After  a 
skirmish  between  Messrs.  Petrikin,  Naylor,  and  Bidule,  in 
regard  to  the  Harrisburg  riot,  there  was  a  regular  engage- 
ment between  John  Q.  Adams  and  Henry  A.  Wise,  upon  a 
motion  to  receive  a  petition  for  the  acknowledgment  of 
Hayti  as  an  independent  power.  Adams  presented  the 
unbroken  front  of  sound,  consistent  argument,  and  profound 
diplomatic  knowledge,  all  set  on  fire  with  the  unabated  vigor 
and  youthful  ardor  of  this  "old  man  eloquent."  To  hear 
him  utter  the  sentence,  "And  there  are  manij  of  those  peti- 
tions! Yes,  I  have  some  from  old  Virginia,  God  bless  her!" 
was  worth  a  journey  to  Washington.  It  was  evident  Wise 
was  in  the  wrong  pew,  and  had  waked  up  the  wrong  passen- 
ger. In  his  complete  discomfiture  he  rose  and  said  the  best 
tiling  he  could  have  said,  "There  is  no  doing  any  thing  with 
this  old  Roman." 

Dec.  18.     The  cause  of  Hayti  has  prevailed. 

Dec.  21.  Visited  the  Supreme  Court  of  the  United  States, 
where  sit  eight  judges, — Chief  Justice  Taney  of  iMaiyland, 
Smith  Thompson  of  New  York,  Henry  Baldwin  of  Pennsyl- 
vania, Philip  Pendleton  Barbour  of  Virginia,  Joseph  Story 
of  Massachusetts,  James  jNI.  Wayne  of  Georgia,  John  Catron 
of  Tennessee,  and  John  INIcLean  of  Ohio.  Saw  for  the  first 
time  Daniel  Webster,  the  lion  of  the  North.  He  looks  like 
no  other  man.  In  the  Senate  lie  appears  like  Jujjiter  among 
the  gods.  He  has  the  most  dignified  and  commanding  pres- 
ence I  ever  beheld. 


DARTMOUTH   COLLEGE.  39 

Dec.  24.  Heard  Webster  close  a  plea  before  the  bench, 
of  the  chief  justices  of  the  United  States.  His  style  and 
address  were  exactly  fitted  to  affect  the  minds  he  would 
persuade,  clear  and  convincing  to  the  understanding,  with 
hardly  an  attempt  to  create  an  emotion.  Now  and  then  he 
would  interrupt  the  tedium  of  reading  by  indulging  a  vein 
of  wit.  In  summing  up  the  evidence  he  showed  the  match- 
less orator.  All  parts  of  his  argument  came  together  like  the 
joints  of  a  dove-tail,  and  formed  a  perfect  whole.  When  he 
had  finished  his  speech,  a  thrill  of  delight  and  admiration  ran 
through  the  entire  audience.  For  forensic  eloquence,  for 
clear,  irresistible  reasoning,  he  is  unequalled.  The  structure 
of  his  mind  seems  to  partake  of  the  firm,  compact  organiza- 
tion of  his  body.  He  is  logic  embodied,  living,  breathing, 
walking. 

At  noon,  in  company  with  friend  G.,  I  proceeded  to  the 
auction-room,  where  I  witnessed  worse  than  a  funeral.  A 
man  about  tliirty-eight  years  of  age  was  presented  to  be  sold 
to  the  highest  bidder.  "  Ben  must  be  sold.  How  much  am 
I  offered?"  One  hundred  dollars  was  the  first  bid.  There 
was  a  slave-driver  present.  He  took  liold  of  him,  felt  of  him, 
and  asked  him  if  he  had  any  disease.  The  negro  was  afraid 
he  would  buy  him,  and  would  not  answer.  With  a  signifi- 
cant look,  the  driver  told  him  he  had  better  mind  what  he 
was  about.  Upon  the  face  of  the  poor  fellow  were  seen  the 
alternate  flashes  of  joy  and  horror  as  the  bidding  went  on. 
At  last  he  was  struck  off  to  a  citizen  of  Alexandria.  Tears 
of  joy  burst  from  the  eyes  of  the  slave,  and  he  said,  "  I  thank, 
I  thank  you,  Massa  !  "  This  enraged  the  driver,  and  he  cried 
out,  "  He  is  worth  five  hundred  dollars,"  and  began  bantering 
the  one  who  had  purchased  him.  The  latter  was  evidently 
willing  to  sell  his  newly  acquired  property  for  a  bargain. 
I  left  this  scene  with  a  burning  heart.  Sometimes  pity,  and 
then  indignation,  predominated.  The  thing  the  unhappy  man 
feared  came  upon  him,  for  toward  night  I  saw  the  driver  and 
his  victim  in  a  wagon,  going  towards  the  "  slave-pens."  I 
had  before  visited  these  places.  They  are  situated  just  in 
front  of  the  Capitol,  at  the  corner  of  what  is  called  Wash- 


40  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

iiigton  S(|n;u'e.  The  proprietor  seemed  very  severe  with  us; 
wanted  to  know  if  we  wished  to  buy.  When  told  we  onl}' 
came  to  look,  he  suffered  us  to  go  through  a  large  iron  door, 
opening  into  the  outer  apartment  and  the  yard.  From 
thence  we  descended  into  a  kind  of  cellar,  where  were  four 
or  live  males  and  two  females  who  were  sick.  A  man  had 
died  the  day  before.  My  blood  froze  around  my  heart,  and 
curdled  in  my  veins. 

Dec.  25.  Went  to  the  Capitol.  Heard  Rives.  .  .  .  Wright 
of  New  York  answered  him.  The  latter  is  slow  in  his  move- 
ments, moderate  in  his  utterances,  one  of  the  few  great  men 
of  the  Senate. 

Dec.  27.  Felt  the  pangs  of  remorse  as  I  reflected  before 
I  rose,  on  the  little  relish  I  had  for  the  holy  Sabbath.  Sang 
the  hj'mn  tlirough,  "  Oh  for  a  closer  walk  with  God,''  and 
the  darkness  seemed  to  break,  and  rays  of  light  beamed  from 
the  excellent  glory  into  my  dark  breast.  Attended  church 
again  at  Mr.  Cookman's. 

Dec.  28.  Went  to  the  Senate  to-day.  Heard  Benton  and 
Davis  debate  upon  a  question  relating  to  the  iisheries.  .  .  . 
Heard  Hubbard  of  New  Hampshire,  Buchanan  of  Pennsyl- 
vania, Niles  of  Connecticut,  Robbins  of  Rhode  Island,  Crit- 
tenden of  Kentucky. 

Feb.  7.  Went  to  the  Senate  earl3^  Found  the  galleries 
crowded.  I  could  scarcely  enter  the  door.  All  ej^es  were 
intent,  all  looked  approbation.  "  Wlio  is  s})eaking?  "  —  "Clay, 
Clay."  —  "  What  on  ?  "  —  "  On  abolition."  It  was  evident  to 
all  present,  that  it  was  only  another  game  played  upon  the 
political  ciicss-board.  i\Ir.  Clay  had  heretofore  been  less 
ready  to  condemn  the  abolitionists  than  Mr.  Calhoun  and 
some  other  Southern  members.  As  the  strength  of  the  abo- 
litionists was  increasing,  and  Clay's  reputation  at  the  North 
diminishing,  the  South  must  be  laid  hold  of  with  a  stronger 
grasp ;  therefore  Mr.  Clay  must  have  an  opportunity  to  speak 
upon  the  subject.  So,  for  his  benefit,  a  paper  was  gotten  uj) 
among  the  citizens  of  the  District,  against  the  admission  of 
abolition  i)ctitions.  Clay's  Avas  a  premeditated  and  studied 
efibrt.      He   went  over  the   whole    ground,   biinging   every 


DARTMOUTH   COLLEGE.  41 

argument  against  emancipation,  that  the  most  selfish,  tyran- 
nical mind  could  suggest, — just  such  in  substance  as  a  dis- 
tinguished orator  of  Algiers  offered  against  the  liberation  of 
some  of  our  countrymen  who  had  been  taken  prisoners. 
The  speech  was  made  for  Southern  ears,  and  it  had  its  desired 
effect.  The  greetings  he  received  were  enthusiastic.  When 
he  sat  down,  Calhoun  congratulated  the  country,  the  Senate, 
and  himself,  that  Mr.  Clay  had  been  converted  to  the  princi- 
ple of  State  Rights,  which  he  (Mr.  Calhoun)  had  so  long 
advocated.  So  the  poor  slave  went  unpitied  to-day.  No 
one  of  all  those  Northern  men  lifted  a  voice  in  his  behalf! 
Davis  skulked;  Webster  was  in  the  Supreme  Court;  the  rest 
were  dumb.  It  will  not  always  be  so.  Tliere  will  be 
men  yet  in  that  chamber  who  will  represent  the   cause   of 

freedom. 

Dartmouth  College,  March,  1839. 

Dear  Brother  Jacob,  —  I  have  just  returned  from  a 
journey  South.  Traveled  on  foot  through  some  of  the 
richest  parts  of  Maryland.  One  of  my  chief  objects  was  to 
replenish  my  empty  wallet.  I  have  observed  much  that  was 
grand  and  beautiful  in  nature  and  art.  I  have  looked  upon 
slavery,  not  only  upon  its  fair  exterior  in  the  foreground,  but 
I  have  peeped  behind  the  curtain.  I  have  seen  the  peck  of 
meal  per  week,  the  whips,  the  drivers,  the  wheel-work  all 
in  motion  — tlie  arrogance,  the  cruelty,  the  profligacy  of  one 
side ;  the  dejection,  insolence,  and  toil  of  the  other.  I  have 
heard  the  suppressed  sigh  and  the  savage  threat.  I  have  seen 
the  image  of  God  sold  under  the  salesman's  hammer.  .  .  . 

The  journey  has  been  the  most  perilous  of  my  life.  Sus- 
picion rests  upon  every  one  from  the  North.  I  found  it 
necessary  to  put  on  all  the  wisdom  of  the  serpent ;  yet  I 
am  not  conscious  of  deception,  and  was  resolved,  if  necessary, 
to  state  the  truth,  and  leave  it  with  God.  I  however  kept  a 
padlock  on  my  lips.  I  interfered  not  with  any  of  their  mat- 
ters. Once  I  was  stopped  in  my  way  with  the  word,  "  This 
fellow  is  one  of  them,  for  his  speech  bewrayeth  him."  I  could 
not  disguise  my  native  Yankee  dialect.  They  proposed  to 
examine  my  effects.     I   knew,   did  they  read   my   journal, 


42  REV.   HORACE   EATON,   D.D. 

lynching  might  be  one  of  the  least  of  my  punishments.  I 
assumed  the  air  of  a  courtier,  a  wounded  cavalier.  "  I  pro- 
fess," said  I,  "to  be  a  gentleman.  I  have  done  nothing 
while  in  your  State  inconsistent  with  the  character  of  a 
gentleman.  I  demand  protection  from  gentlemen."  This 
little  speech  touched  the  riglit  chord.  I  was  welcomed  to 
the  mansion,  and  on  leaving  was  urged  by  the  planter  and 
his  family  to  come  again.  With  but  few  exceptions  I  was 
received  with  the  greatest  hospitality :  I  was  fed  with  the 
finest  of  the  wheat,  and  lodged  upon  down. 

But  the  dogs,  oh  the  dogs!  I  have  literally  fought  with 
worse  than  the  beasts  of  Ephesus.  So  anxious  was  I  to  make 
my  pile,  that  for  a  time  I  imprudently  traveled  after  twilight. 
These  dogs  are  merciless  as  a  bear  robbed  of  her  whelps.  I 
have  great  reason  for  thankfulness  that  not  a  tooth  has  en- 
tered ray  flesh.  But  I  still  shudder  as  I  recollect  how  near 
I  came  being  torn  in  pieces  by  packs  of  these  creatures. 

He  graduated  from  college,  July  25,  1839. 

To  his  sister  :  — 

Bristol,  N.H.,  August,  1839. 

.  .  .  We  had  the  usual  crowd  upon  Commencement  Day. 
Hon.  Rufus  Choate  was  present.  ...  I  am  once  more  afloat 
upon  the  broad  ocean  of  life.  The  last  four  years  have  been 
most  delightful.  They  have  engaged  all  my  mental  and 
physical  energies.  But  they  are  over.  The  band  of  noble 
hearts  with  whom  I  entered  are  already  scattered.  No  more 
will  the  bell  summon  us  to  the  recitation-room  or  the  place 
of  our  accustomed  solemnities.  I  pity  the  man  who  does 
not  reflect  seriously,  and  feel  deeply,  at  the  breaking-up  of 
such  associations,  at  the  sundering  of  such  ties.  Who  can 
look  back  upon  a  college-course,  and  not  sigh  that  days  so 
blessed  in  social,  intellectual,  and  religious  interest,  are  for- 
ever gone.  .  .  . 

We  subjoin  letters  in  regard  to  his  life  at  Dartmouth  from  two  sur- 
viving classmates,  to  whom,  as  to  all  the  class  of  '39,  he  was  most  tenderly 
attached. 

From  Rev.  Charles  Teabody  of  St.  Louis,  Mo.  :  — 

"  The  first  time  I  ever  saw  Horace  Eaton  was  in  the  fall  of  1833,  at 


DARTMOUTH  COLLEGE.  43 

Meriden,  N.II.,  where  he  came  to  prepare  for  college  at  Kimball  Union 
Academy.  My  recollections  of  him  at  tliis  time  are  very  distinct.  We 
met  in  the  academy  prayer-meeting.  His  earnest,  Christian  spirit,  his 
fervency  in  speaking  and  leading  in  prayer,  drew  me  soon  to  him.  1  was 
impressed  with  his  self-reliant  manner,  especially  in  fitting  up  his  room. 
He  procm'ed  the  little  articles  of  furniture,  and  took  them  to  the  academy 
and  up  the  stairs  without  any  assistance,  even  a  stove  of  considerable 
size.  During  this  brief  acquaintance,  I  learned  from  him  that  he  was 
determined  to  get  a  good  education,  and  to  prepare  himself  for  the  min- 
istry, relying  alone  upon  his  own  energy  and  industry.  He  was  only  at 
Meriden  a  fevv^  weeks.  He  left  for  Andover,  Mass.,  that  he  might  have 
better  opportunities  to  earn  money  while  studying. 

"In  the  autumn  of  1835  we  both  joined  the  freshman  class  of  Dart- 
mouth College.  I  was  prepared,  from  our  pleasant  interviews  at  IVIeriden, 
to  welcome  him  as  an  old  acquaintance.  Soon  after  entering  Dartmouth, 
and  in  pursuance  of  his  plans  of  self-support,  he  organized  and  became 
the  steward  of  a  boarding-club,  which  he  managed  with  such  success  that 
it  soon  drew  a  large  number  of  students,  chiefly  of  his  own  classmates. 
This  position  he  held  luost  of  the  time  while  at  Hanover.  It  gave  him 
his  board  for  his  services,  and  brought  him  into  close  and  familiar  asso- 
ciation with  twenty  or  thirty  of  the  best  and  most  serious-minded  young 
men. 

"He  also  turned  his  attention  to  an  art  which  he  had  thoroughly 
learned  before  commencing  his  studies.  He  had  mastered  the  mechanism 
of  the  clock  and  the  watch,  and  knew  how  to  repair  them  when  out  of 
order.  He  had  retained  a  complete  set  of  tools.  The  first  trial  of  these 
was  upon  the  watches  of  his  fellow-students.  So  great  was  his  success  in 
his  handicraft,  that  he  soon  had  plenty  of  work,  much  to  the  satisfaction 
of  the  students  and  the  chagrin  of  the  jewelers  of  the  village.  They 
found  little  to  do  in  repairing  and  adjusting  the  time-keepers  of  those 
who  knew  how  well  Horace  Eaton  understood  the  cause  and  cure  of 
watch  troubles.  In  his  walks  for  recreation  into  the  country,  he  always 
carried  his  case  of  tools,  and  the  farmers  of  all  that  region  soon  found 
out  who  could  put  their  clocks  in  good  running  order. 

"  I  well  recollect  that  one  Saturday  afternoon  during  our  freshman 
year,  I  accompanied  him  some  miles  into  the  country  for  exercise.  We 
finally  came  to  a  large  farmhouse.  Said  Eaton,  '  Let's  go  in  and  get  a 
glass  of  water.'  We  told  the  good  housewife  that  we  were  students,  and 
craved  the  privilege  of  sitting  down  to  rest  ourselves  for  a  few  minutes. 
She  invited  us  into  the  best  room,  where  were  a  bed  and  a  clock.  After 
quenching  our  thirst,  my  comrade  inquired,  '  Does  that  clock  keep  good 
time?' — 'No,'  she  replied :  'it  don't  ruu  any  more.  Something  is  the 
matter  with  it.' 


44  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

"  In  two  minutes,  without  another  word,  the  clock  was  all  in  pieces, 
and  spread  out  upon  the  bed.  Just  tlieu  the  farmer  liimself  came  in,  and 
seeing  wheels,  pendulum,  pinions,  pins,  springs,  hands,  and  the  ■whole  of 
his  clock  thus  scattered,  looked  on  in  dismay  without  uttering  a  word. 
Eaton  said  nothing  ;  but  after  plying  brushes,  fdes,  pliers,  and  oil  to  the 
various  parts,  and  straightening  out  rods,  arbors,  pinions,  and  pins,  which 
were  bent,  he  soon  had  all  the  machinery  in  its  place,  and  the  old  clock 
began  to  tick.  After  Avinding  it  up,  and  setting  it  by  his  w-atch,  he  said, 
'There:  it  will  run  all  right  now.'  The  farmer  had  not  yet  spoken  a 
word.  Putting  his  hand  into  his  pocket  at  last,  he  said,  '  How  much  do 
you  charge  for  the  job?'  —  'Never  mind,'  was  the  reply  :  '  when  1  come 
up  this  way  again  on  a  long  walk,  I  will  call  and  see  how  it  goes,  and,  if 
I  find  it  all  right,  you  may  pay  me  a  dollar.'  This  was  a  sample  of  his 
skill  and  methods  of  self-support,  which  I  witnessed  on  many  occasions 
afterward. 

"  When  the  long  vacations  came  round,  which  were  designed  in  those 
days  to  give  students  an  opportunity  to  earn  something  by  teaching, 
Eaton  could  not  afford  to  spend  his  time  in  a  heated  schoolroom.  He 
went  through  the  country,  and  with  his  ingenuity  and  tools  always  came 
back  at  the  end  of  the  vacation  with  more  money  in  his  pocket  than  any 
of  the  rest  of  us.  In  one  winter  he  w'andered  off  as  far  as  Wasliington, 
where  he  remained  several  weeks,  and  returned  not  only  with  a  full  purse, 
but  with  his  mind  stored  with  new  ideas.  Upon  the  invitation  of  his 
fellow-students,  he  gave  a  lecture  upon  what  he  had  seen  and  heard  in  the 
capital  of  the  nation.  He  first  spoke  of  the  President,  Van  Buren,  and 
the  White  House,  and  then  of  the  great  men  of  the  time,  —  Webster, 
Clay,  Calhoun,  John  Quincy  Adams,  and  others,  — to  all  of  whom  he  had 
listened  in  the  Senate  or  the  House.  He  described  the  public  buildings, 
especially  the  post-office  department  and  the  patent-office.  I  remember 
with  what  a  glow  of  eloquence  he  referred  to  a  treaty  of  peace  between 
France  and  the  United  States,  which  he  saw  in  a  frame  hanging  on  the 
wall,  and  to  which  was  affixed  the  veritable  signature  of  the  great  Napo- 
leon. The  fact  that  that  hand  which  had  so  long  held  sway  over  Europe 
had  once  rested  on  this  same  piece  of  parchment  fired  his  imagination. 
He  had  looked  upon  the  autograph  of  the  man  who  had  deposed  kings, 
and  caused  the  earth  to  tremble.  That  same  eye  which  had  so  often 
gazed  through  the  smoke  of  battle  upon  his  victorious  armies  had  once 
glanced  down  on  these  strokes  of  the  pen.  He  carried  Napoleon  across 
the  Alps  amid  their  eternal  snows.  He  traced  his  career  at  Marengo, 
Jena,  and  Austerlitz,  then,  with  a  single  sentence,  laid  him  away  at  St. 
Helena,  in  his  solitary  grave.  I  need  not  add  that  his  account  of  the 
public  men  at  Washington,  and  csjiecially  his  eloquent  description  of 
the  treaty  and  the  great  events  which  it  suggested,  produced  a  profound 


DARTMOUTH   COLLEGE.  45 

impression  upon  liis  audience.  He  was  the  popular  orator  of  Ins  class 
from  that  day.  It  was  partly  this  unexpected  display  of  oratorical 
ability,  and  partly  a  knowledge  of  his  sincere,  transparent  character, 
and  simple,  unostentatious  manners,  that  made  him  known,  and  a 
favorite  with  all  classes. 

"  This  esteem  exhibited  itself  in  a  remarkable  manner  at  the  close  of 
his  junior  year.  He  was  then  almost  unanimously  elected  president  for 
the  senior  year  of  the  Literary  Society,  to  which  he  belonged.  His 
warm  heart  and  devoted  piety,  especially  his  firmness  in  expressing  and 
upholding  his  convictions  upon  religious  and  moral  questions,  won  for 
him  the  sincere  regard  of  all. 

"  But  he  was  no  ascetic.  He  was  ever  ready  to  join  in  all  manly  and 
athletic  sports,  which,  however,  at  that  time,  were  few,  compared  with 
the  games  of  the  present  day.  On  one  occasion,  with  a  company  of 
eight  or  ten  college-boys,  he  arose  before  midnight,  and  walked  to  the 
top  of  Ascutney  Mountain,  some  twenty-four  miles  distant,  to  see  the 
sun  rise.  No  one  enjoyed  the  tramp,  or  the  radiant  dawning  of  the  new 
day,  more  than  he.  He  often  referred  to  it  as  the  grandest  panorama  he 
ever  beheld.  The  fatigue  nearly  prostrated  most  of  the  party ;  but  he 
seemed  only  invigorated. 

"  He  was  a  close  and  compact  thinker,  framed  a  strong  and  convin- 
cing argument,  and  at  the  same  time  was  of  a  poetic  turn  of  mind.  He 
often  dwelt  on  the  rich  drapery  of  thought  presented  in  the  Old  Testa- 
ment, and  was  wont  to  make  use  of  poetic  quotations  from  the  Scrip- 
tures in  his  essays.  The  subject  assigned  him  for  his  oration  when  he 
graduated  was  'Hebrew  Poetry,'  which  showed  that  this  mental  trait 
was  well  understood  by  the  college  faculty. 

"  One  other  characteristic  incident  is  recalled.  Long  after  we  had 
left  the  shades  of  Dartmouth,  we  met  at  the  annual  conmiencement. 
Hanover,  as  usual,  was  crowded  with  visitors.  There  was  no  place  for 
us  in  the  inn.  We  sought,  not  a  stable,  but  the  room  of  a  friendly  stu- 
dent, who  gave  us  the  use  of  his  floor,  where  Horace  Eaton  and  I  slept 
side  by  side.  The  next  day  we  sat  in  the  same  seat  in  the  venerable 
church.     The  college  president  was  conferring  degrees. 

"  Soon  '  Reverendus  Horatius  Eaton,  Palmyra,  N,  Y.,'  saluted  oiu-  ears. 
A  sudden  look  of  blank  amazement  fell  on  his  face.  He  whispered  to 
me  something  like  this,  '  O  pshaw !  that  mustn't  be ! '  and  dropped  his 
head  on  the  back  of  the  next  pew,  as  if  in  shame  and  astonishment.  It 
was  to  him  totally  unlooked  for  and  unexpected.  Upon  retiring  from 
the  church,  he  pushed  his  way  quickly  through  the  multitude  to  avoid 
his  old  classmates  and  friends,  waiting  at  the  door  to  salute  him  '  Dr. 
Eaton.' 

"  To  these  pleasant  college-memories  I  might  properly  add,  that,  dur- 


46  REV.   HORACE   EATON,   D.D. 

iag  an  intimate  friendship  with  him  of  forty-five  years  since  we  gradu- 
ated from  Dartmouth,  I  have  traced  in  liis  private  life  and  in  his  public 
labors  the  same  earnest,  sincere,  unostentatious  spirit,  the  same  fervid 
eloquence,  and  the  same  devoted  piety  which  were  so  conspicuous  in  his 
college-days." 

From  Rev.  Alfred  Stevens,  D.D.,  of  Westminister,  Vt. :  — 

"  I  was  intimate  with  Dr.  Eaton  in  college.  We  were  in  sympathy  in 
our  views  and  plans,  and  were  often  drawn  together  in  the  offensive  and 
defensive  work  demanded  by  the  times.  He  was  a  live  man.  Xo  question 
or  movement  in  or  out  of  the  college  escaped  his  notice.  All  the  world 
was  for  him,  and  he  for  all  the  world.  His  college-life  entered  into  the 
life  of  the  world  with  a  rare  enthusiasm,  always  tempered  with  wisdom. 

"He  was  a  reliable  man.  Wlien  satisfied  what  was  right,  I  knew 
where  to  find  him,  and  wliat  support  might  be  expected  from  him.  The 
right  was  his  ideal.  This  being  settled,  he  gave  place  to  no  man  or 
practice. 

"  With  fellow-classmates  we  came  together  as  strangers.  Each  was 
anxious  to  know  of  what  stuff  the  other  was  made.  An  opportunity 
soon  offered  that  brought  out  '  Horace,'  as  he  was  familiarly  called,  in 
his  true  light  before  the  class.  It  had  been  a  custom  of  long  standing 
for  the  freshmen  to  furnish  the  foot-ball  for  the  higher  classes.  The 
class  was  called  upon  to  appoint  a  committee  to  take  charge  of  the  busi- 
ness, and  make  out  a  tax  to  meet  the  expense.  The  point  was  being 
considered  pro  and  con.  Presently  there  rose  up  a  form  as  defiant  as  a 
rock.  Every  look,  motion,  and  word  were  defiant.  'Let  those  that 
dance  pay  the  fiddler.  If  I  play  foot-ball,  as  I  may,  I  wall  pay  my  part ; 
but  I  will  not  acknowledge  the  right  of  any  upper-class  men  to  impose  a 
tax  on  me.'  This  decided  the  question.  The  class  of  '39  did  not  fur- 
nish the  foot-ball. 

"  The  subject  of  slavery  was  then  before  the  country  and  the  world. 
He  was  an  abolitionist,  outspoken  in  face  of  the  conservatism  of  most  of 
the  students  and  the  faculty.  He  was  an  advocate  of  immediate  emanci- 
pation. The  professor  of  moral  philosophy  thought  to  take  him  down  a 
little  on  this  subject  before  the  class. 

" '  Eaton,  if  I  were  an  eagle,  and  should  seize  you  by  the  hair  of  your 
head,  and  take  you  up  fifty  feet  into  the  air,  should  I  have  any  right  to 
hold  you  there  ? '  — '  No,  sir,'  was  the  modest  answer.  '  Would  it  be  right 
for  me  to  let  you  fall  at  once?*  —  'The  whole  transaction  is  wrong,  sir. 
No  part  of  it  can  be  right,'  was  the  emphatic  reply.  Nothing  more  was 
said.  He  respected  the  opinions  of  his  seniors;  but  he  loved  the  truth 
more,  and  would  defend  it  in  sight  of  the  stake,  if  need  be.  He  was 
progressive;  but  his  ardor  was  always  moderated  by  good  judgment. 
Some  of  our  classmates  at  length  became  ultra  in  their  zeal  for  reform, 


DARTMOUTH   COLLEGE.  47 

rash  in  their  speech  and  measures.  He  was  the  last  to  be  moved  by 
them,  and  boldest  to  oppose  everything  in  doctrine  and  practice  that  was 
not  Christlike  in  spirit.  I  well  recall  his  grief  as  he  felt  obliged  to 
separate  from  some  that  sympathized  with  him  in  the  main,  but  became 
denouncers  of  all  who  did  not  indorse  their  notions.  He  knew  of  no 
fellowship  that  did  not  hold  him  in  communion  with  the  Saviour.  A 
word  against  Christ,  his  church,  or  the  Bible,  was  fatal  to  co-operation 
with  him. 

"  He  had  an  aim  in  life  higher  than  promotion.  He  worked  early  and 
late,  and  was  willing  to  be  poor,  that  he  might  fit  himself  to  benefit  his 
fellowmen.  As  a  friend,  he  was  ever  generous  and  helpful.  Those  that 
knew  him  best  expected  a  useful  career  for  him,  and  his  life  fulfilled 
their  predictions. 

"  The  sti'ength  of  his  character  was  in  his  Christian  culture.  To  be  a 
Christian  with  him  was  first  and  last :  to  fail  in  this  was  to  fail  in 
every  thing.  His  Christian  discipline  was  severe.  He  did  not  float  with 
the  tides  of  this  world.  He  knew  what  Paul  meant  when  he  said,  *  So 
fight  I.'  His  mind  and  body  were  subjected  to  watchfulness,  lest  he 
fjhould  fail  in  the  performance  of  duty. 

"  His  religious  influence  was  great  in  and  around  the  college.  It  was 
manifest  why  he  was  a  member  of  Dartmouth  College :  it  was  for 
Christ.  He  was  a  supporter  of  every  movement  to  raise  the  standard  of 
Christian  thinking  and  living  in  the  college.  He  had  large  views  of 
work  for  Christ,  and  was  not  afraid  of  large  plans,  and  of  earnestness  in 
their  execution.  To  his  over-cautious  friends  he  would  say,  '  Strength  in 
the  machinery,  and  put  on  the  steam.  Don't  be  afraid  to  trust  the 
leader.' 

"  Almost  fifty  years  have  passed  since  we  were  students  together ;  but  I 
recall  with  pleasure  and  profit  those  scenes  of  prayer  and  conference  in 
our  college-days.  His  faith  was  simple  :  it  was  not  a  muddle  of  probabili- 
ties or  possibilities.  I  see  him  now  just  as  he  used  to  stand  up  before 
us,  firmly  on  the  good  foundation,  '  By  grace  ye  are  saved  through  faith, 
and  that  not  of  yourselves,  it  is  the  gift  of  God ' ;  and  I  hear  him  say 
with  emphasis,  '  Brethren,  there  is  nothing  uncertain  in  Christ.' 

"  I  simply  add,  he  was  a  grand  man,  my  best  friend.  I  feel  his  influ- 
ence to-day.  His  college-life  has  been  an  inspiration  to  me  all  my  minis- 
terial life.  I  regret  that  I  shall  see  his  face  no  more,  or  feel  the  hearty 
grasp  of  his  hand.  But  I  do,  and  shall  always,  feel  the  beating  of  his 
Christian  heart,  and  hope,  in  a  few  years  at  the  most,  to  meet  him 
among  those  that  have  been  faithful  until  death." 


CHAPTER   IV. 

1839-1849. 

UNION  THEOLOGICAL  SEMINARY,  NEW  YORK.  —  MINISTRY 
AT  THE  SIXTH-STREET  CHURCH,  NEW  YORK.  —  MAR- 
RIAGE.—  LAST   ILLNESS    OF    HIS    MOTHER. 

Extracts  from  his  diary  and  letters  ^vill  give  the  history  of  these 
years. 

Oct.  7,  1839.  Left  Concord,  N.H.,  to-day,  and  arrived  at 
Andover,  here  expecting  to  prosecute  the  study  of  theology. 
Am  more  than  ever  impressed  with  the  responsibility  of  the 
sacred  office.  Did  Paul  say  "  Who  is  sufficient  for  these 
things,"  and  shall  I  assume  them? 

Oct.  10.  Spent  the  day  in  studying  the  Hebrew  gram- 
mar. 

To  understand  the  subject  to  which  he  next  alhides,  it  miist  be  borne 
in  mind  that,  in  those  days,  one  dollar  paid  the  postage  of  but  four  let- 
ters to  distances  now  regarded  short. 

Oct.  11.  P)eing  tempted  to  evade  the  law  by  writing  on  a 
newspaper,  I  rejected  the  thought,  and  had  sweet  deligiit  in 
meditating  upon  the  passage,  "  That  ye  may  be  blameless  and. 
harmless,  the  sons  of  God,  Avithout  rebuke."  How  plain  the 
road!  always  do  just  right.  Then  will  the  soul  be  led  in 
the  path  of  peace. 

At  this  time  he  very  unexpectedly  decided  to  pursue  his  studies  at  the 
Union  Theological  Seminary  in  New  York.  The  reasons  are  given  iu  a 
letter  to  his  motlier  :  — 

...  1  know  you  will  be  surprised,  and  perhaps  will  fear 
that  I  am  unstable.  I  am  sure  when  I  tell  you  why  I  left 
Andover,  you  will  approve. 

The  expense  is  greater  at  Andover  than  at  New  York. 

There  is  no  opportunity  to  earn  a  farthing  at  Andover. 
In  New  York  I  can  teach  one,  two,  or  three  hours  per  day. 


THEOLOGICAL   SEMINARY.  49 

But  the  thing  trhat  made  it  imperative  was  a  letter  from 
requesting  me  to  pay  the  twenty-five  dollars  I  owe  him. 


I  did  not  deem  it  my  duty  to  put  back  my  studies  for  the 
sake  of  paying  this  sum.  I  therefore  go  to  New  York  to  earn 
it  while  pursuing  them. 

He  alway;^  regarded  the  day  he  spent  in  Boston,  en  route  for  New- 
York,  as  an  important  one  in  determining  tlie  direction  of  his  future 
life.  Wendell  Pliillips  had  laeard  him  speak  at  Concord,  ISTJI.,  while  a 
member  of  Dartmouth  College,  and  with  others  was  desirous  that  he 
should  devote  himself  to  lecturing  in  behalf  of  the  antislavery  cause. 
When  he  arrived  at  Boston,  he  was  invited  to  a  dinner  to  meet  Mr.  P., 
with  a  view  of  making  arrangements  for  this  end.  These  facts  explain 
the  following  entry  in  his  journal :  — 

Oct.  16,  1839.     Came  to  Boston,  where  I  was  welcomed 

with  great  cordiality.      Was   urged  by  every  motive    that 

ardent  zeal  could  invent  to  turn  aside,  and  engage  in  the 

business  of  lecturing.     After  serious  reflection,   contrary  to 

all  pecuniary  interests,  I  refused  their  solicitations.     I  would 

pursue  the  object  I  have  long  sought,  and  pant  to  attain, — 

to  preach  the  glorious  gospel  of  the  blessed  God.     I  did  not 

go  to  the  dinner.     I  thought  I  had  better  be  out  of  the  way 

of  temptation,  and,  mailing  a  note,  hastened  on  the  train  to 

New  York. 

To  his  mother  :  — 

New  Yokk,  Nov.  14,  1839. 

...  I  am  now  doing  my  best  to  acquire  the  Hebrew.  Dr. 
Nordheimer,  a  Jew,  is  my  teacher.  I  assure  you,  dear  mother, 
there  is  something  solemn  and  inspiring  in  reading  this  sacred 
language  in  which  patriarchs  prayed,  prophets  sung,  angels 
talked,  in  which  Jehovah  himself  spoke. 

There  is  nothing  I  love  so  well  as  to  study  tlie  word  of 
God.  And  if  study  for  the  ministry  is  so  delightful,  what 
must  be  the  actual  service  of  feeding  Christ's  lambs !  I  now 
feel  that,  if  ever  prepared  and  permitted  to  engage  in  that 
blessed  work,  I  shall  be  one  of  the  most  favored  of  Heaven. 
I  love  the  Bible,  not  only  as  the  text-book  of  my  profession, 
but  theie  I  find  my  daily  food  and  consolation. 

We  have  frequent  notices  in  his  journal  of  the  remarks,  sermons,  and 
addresses  of  his  revered  teachers  in  the  seminary,  Eev.  Drs.  White  and 


50  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

Robinson,  as  well  as  those  of  prominent  pastors. and  laymen  of  the  city, 
—  Rev.  Drs.  Spring,  Patton,  A.  D.  Smith,  Brownlee,  Tyng,  S.  II.  Cox, 
Armstrong',  William  Adams,  and  lion.  Theodore  Frelingliuysen.  Save 
his  devoted  friend,  Rev.  Dr.  John  Spaulding,  who  has  for  so  many  years 
borne  upon  his  heart  and  hands  the  interests  of  those  "who  go  down  to 
the  sea  in  ships,"  all  these  leaders  in  Israel  now  rest  from  their  labors. 

In  the  autumn  of  1839  he  was  invited  by  Rev.  Dr.  Erskine  ^lason 
to  become  superintendent  of  the  Sabbath-school  of  Bleeker-street 
Church.  In  a  short  time  his  characteristic  zeal  and  faithfulness  had 
nearly  doubled  the  number  of  its  pupils.  He  traversed  streets,  lanes, 
and  alleys  ;  he  scoured  garrets,  lofts,  and  cellars.  In  that  winter  of 
great  financial  distress  he  rescued  many  families  on  the  verge  of  starva- 
tion. In  one  of  his  "walks  abroad"  he  found  a  widow  whose  husband 
had  just  died,  leaving  her  with  a  large  family  of  children.  They  had 
been  in  this  country  but  a  few  weeks.  Their  destitution  had  well-nigh 
proved  fatal  when  he  entered  their  wretched  abode.  To  win  back  life 
he  uttered  a  few  words  of  cheer  and  hope,  then  hurried  with  the  utmost 
speed  to  the  elegant  homes  of  the  elect  ladies  of  Dr.  ^Mason's  church.  A 
few  hours  brought  relief  and  comfort.  The  next  Lonl's  Day  saw  the 
widow  and  her  children  ranged  in  a  long  row  in  the  Sabbath-school. 
The  mother  proved  to  be  a  woman  of  uncommon  mental  strength.  She 
and  her  family  took  on  the  best  influences  of  this  land  of  their  adoption. 
They  were  converted,  educated,  rose  in  the  social  scale.  They  themselves 
became  "succorers  of  many."  In  November,  IS.jo,  at  a  semi-annual 
meeting  of  the  American  Female  Guardian  Society  and  Home  for  the 

Friendless,  New  York,  held  in  Palmyra,  Mrs.  Mc ,  as  a  delegate  or 

director,  met  her  benefactor  in  his  own  church.  The  inteiwiew,  a  sur- 
prise to  both,  can  better  be  imagined  than  described.  The  Irish  heart 
shone  out  in  the  clasped  hands  and  illumined  face. 

He  thus  speaks  of  his  love  for  this  Sabbath-school :  — 

New  York,  April  5,  1840.  As  I  am  about  to  leave  town, 
closed  tliis  day  my  connection  Avith  Bleeker-street  Church. 
I  am  much  attached  to  the  school,  especially  to  some  devoted 
teachers  and  to  some  poor  but  promising  children.  I  feel  a 
longing  desire  that  they  may  grow  up  in  the  nurture  and 
admonition  of  the  Lord.  But  what  temptations  beset  them ! 
Some  are  children  of  wicked  parents.  All  I  can  now  do  is 
to  commend  them  to  God.  I  am  sensible  of  much  negligence 
and  want  of  wisdom  ;  but  I  i)ray  that  what  I  have  done 
wrong  may  be  forgiven,  and  what  I  have  done  right  may  be 
blessed. 


THEOLOGICAL   SEMINARY.  51 

He  was  obliged  to  spend  the  last  few  weeks  of  the  first  year  of  his 
course,  and  all  of  the  summer  vacation,  in  teaching  school. 

To  his  sister  :  — 

Theological  Seminary,  New  York,  Nov.  17,  1840. 

I  have  just  returned  from  the  Labors  and  perplexities  of 
school-teaching,  six  months  in  New  Jersey.  I  am  more 
flushed  with  victory  than  enriched  with  the  spoils  of  war. 
J.  W  has  called  on  me  here.  He  is  the  one  in  our  shop  at 
St.  Albans,  who  did  run  well  for  a  while  in  preparation  for 
the  ministry,  but  who  soon  gave  it  up  for  secular  business. 
He  has  $5,000  a  j'ear  in  New  Orleans.  I  have  never  regretted 
that  I  did  not  pursue  my  first,  my  favorite  employment.  My 
heart  dilates  as  I  look  forward  to  the  time  when  I  may  be 
permitted  to  proclaim  the  glorious  gospel !  What  light, 
what  warmth,  what  effulgence,  beam  from  the  cross ! 

A  few  words  relate  to  his  struggles  in  defraying  his  expenses  while  in 
the  seminary :  — 

I  paid  my  own  way  through  the  academy  and  college,  save 
$2.75  given  me  by  a  brother's  wife.  But  the  severest  pinch 
was  when  I  entered  Union  Seminary.  When  I  stepped  off 
from  the  boat  in  New  York  harbor  I  had  but  seven  dollars. 
The  times  were  terrible.  I  could  not,  I  would  not,  lose  a 
year.  I  kept  soul  and  body  together  through  the  first  winter 
by  rising  six  days  in  the  week  at  three  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing, passing  down  Broadway  from  Eighth  to  Ann  Street, 
taking  one  hundred  copies  of  the  "Journal  of  Commerce," 
distributing  them  to  the  subscribers,  and  returning  weary  to 
my  room,  with  half  a  dollar  for  my  labor.  This  was  the 
acme  of  the  strain.  Soon  opportunities  of  teaching  afforded 
me  ample  means  of  support. 

July,  1841.  To-day  united  with  the  Brainerd  Church  in 
Rivington  Street.  This  church  was  formed  by  a  few  devoted 
spirits  for  the  express  purpose  of  doing  good  to  the  masses. 
Harlan  Page  and  Christopher  R.  Robert  ^  were  the  first  two 
elders.  Mr.  Page  died  six  months  after  the  church  was 
organized.  Mr.  Robert  still  survives  to  be  its  chief  support. 
When    I   was    sick    the    last   winter,    Mr.   Robert    sent    and 

''■  The  founder  of  Robert  College,  Constantinople. 


52  REV.   HORACE   EATON,   D.D. 

brought  me  to  his  house,  wliere  I  leraained  till  well.  He 
then  most  generously  invited  me  to  continue  in  his  family 
while  pursuing  my  studies  in  the  seminary.  This  I  regard 
one  of  the  most  marked  interpositions  of  Providence  in  my 
behalf.  It  brings  me  in  contact  with  refined  society.  It 
relieves  me  of  expense  when  my  means  are  failing.  The 
influences  are  softening,  subduing,  humanizing,  to  one  who 
has  not  resided  in  a  family  for  several  years. 
To  his  sister  :  — 

Theological  Seminary,  New  York,  May  2,  1841. 

...  It  is  sometimes  a  wonder  to  me  tliat  I  have  any 
friends,  I  so  neglect  them.  But  it  is  not  because  I  forget 
them  or  am  too  indolent  to  write  them.  Could  I  buy  up  the 
time  of  idlers  and  loafers  in  this  city,  I  would  spend  more  in 
writing,  and  visiting  my  relatives.  I  am  now  just  getting 
througli  my  second  year  in  the  seminary.  The  days  pass 
pleasantly  and  profitably.  The  subjects  I  am  called  to 
examine  are  expanding  to  the  mind,  and  improving  to  the 
heart.  I  love  those  sacred  themes  that  cluster  around  the 
cross  of  Christ.  I  bless  God  that  he  has  called  me  from 
the  sheepcote,  sustained  me  tlius  far,  and  will  at  length,  as 
I  ho2)e,  put  me  into  the  ministry. 

To  his  mother :  — 

New  York,  Feb.  23,  1842. 

.  .  .  The  time  is  long  since  I  saw  you ;  but  I  hope  soon 
to  greet  ycm  face  to  face.  I  feel  some  as  I  did  when  I  was 
about  to  return  from  Vermont.  Then  I  met  you  at  Sister 
R.'s,  and  your  boy  had  so  grown  3-ou  did  not  know  him. 
I  do  not  suppose  any  mental  expansion  or  physical  change 
will  produce  another  such  result  should  I  be  so  ha})py  as  to 
see  you  again.  Next  June  I  close  an  expensive  and  delight- 
ful course  of  study.  I  long  to  proclaim  the  richness  and 
fullness  of  the  remedy  God  has  provided  for  a  ruined  world. 

The  more  I  examine  the  great  subjects  of  the  Bible,  I  must 
confess,  the  more  I  see  the  consistency  and  truth  of  that 
"  form  of  sound  words  "  which  I  have  heard  from  my  mother 
and  grandmother.  My  views  of  theology  are  contained  in 
that  wonderful  book,  the  "Assembly's  Shorter  Catechism," 


FIRST  PASTORATE.  53 

which  I  used  to  study  in  the  chamber  where  you  were  weav- 
ing. Perhaps  you  Uttle  thought  then  that  you  were  teaching 
theology  more  effective!}^  tlian  the  chiefest  of  the  doctors. 
But  so  I  verily  believe  it  was.  I  have  now  no  distinct  inti- 
mation of  God's  will  in  reference  to  my  future  field.  I  would 
feel  at  all  times  ready  to  go  wherever  he  shall  see  fit  to  send 
me. 

To  his  sister :  — 

New  York,  April  20,  1843. 

.  .  .  Some  time  ago  I  received  a  call  from  the  Presbyterian 
church  of  this  city,  to  which  I  liave  been  preaching  the  past 
year.  I  have  thought  it  my  duty  to  accept.  Tlie  church  is 
not  large  ;  but  they  are  a  pious,  intelligent  people,  and  seem 
much  attached  to  me.  I  did  not  intend  to  stay  in  the  city, 
but,  as  far  as  I  can  judge,  such  is  the  will  of  God.  .  .  . 

I  shall  board  in  an  excellent  family,  that  of  Rev.  Dr.  Arm- 
strong, the  secretary  of  the  American  Board  of  Missions.^ 

...  I  know  you  never  forget  me  on  the  Sabbath  Day,  or 
on  week  days.  I  sometimes  feel  a  gale  of  heavenly  influence 
wafted  across  my  soul,  and  I  think  it  comes  by  the  way  of 
the  prayers  of  dear  friends.  In  my  late  journey  to  New 
England,  I  bless  God  I  was  permitted  to  visit  mother  once 

1  Mr.  Eaton  greatly  prized  the  religious  privileges  of  this  home.  It  was 
Mrs.  Armstrong's  habit  to  retire  to  her  room  and  spend  the  half-hour  previ- 
ous to  every  Sabbath  morning's  service  in  prayer  for  her  young  pastor. 

His  valued  friend,  Dr.  Armstrong,  perished  in  the  wreck  of  the  "Atlan- 
tic," November,  184G.  During  the  awful  hours  that  preceded  the  final  catas- 
trophe, the  passengers  crowded  around  this  venerable  man.  They  felt  safer  to 
be  near  him,  and  hung  upon  his  lips  as  he  read  from  the  Scriptures,  of  Christ's 
stilling  the  tempest,  and  commended  himself  and  them  to  God  in  prayer. 
It  was  to  him  Mrs.  Sigourney  alludes  in  Jicr  beautiful  poem,  "The  Bell  of 
the  Atlantic  "  :  — 

"  Toll  for  the  man  of  God, 

Whose  hallowed  voice  of  prayer 
Rose  calm  above  the  stifled  groan 

Of  that  intense  despair: 
How  precious  were  those  tones, 

On  that  sad  verge  of  life, 
Amid  the  fierce  and  freezing  storm. 
And  the  mountain  billows'  strife  !  " 


54  REV.   HORACE   EATON,   D.D. 

more.  It  was  a  great  means  of  grace.  She  is  fast  ripening 
for  heaven.  Preached  before  her  for  the  first  time.  She 
wishes  me  to  remain  East,  and  it  is  my  most  earnest  desire  to 
see  her  safel}'  through. 

He  was  licensed  to  preach  the  gospel  by  the  Third  Presbytery  of  Xew 
York,  April  8,  1842. 
From  his  journal :  — 

Oct.  7,  1842.  Upon  this  anniversary  of  my  birth,  it  has 
been  botli  profitable  and  painful  to  review  the  last  year. 
When  I  compare  mj^self  in  all  respects  with  the  law  of 
God,  when  I  meditate  upon  the  holiness  of  that  law,  when 
I  think  how  cold  my  affections  have  been  toward  divine 
things,  when  I  call  to  mind  the  means  of  doing  good 
slighted,  souls  unwarned.  Christian  brethren  unedified,  and 
when  I  realize  that  my  sin  is  graduated  according  to  my 
light  and  privileges,  I  feel  guilty  and  condemned.  And  yet 
I  am  not  forsaken.  Christ  still  intercedes  for  me,  the  Spirit 
still  strives  with  me.  Yea,  I  am  even  permitted  to  study  his 
holy  word  and  to  proclaim  its  wonderful  truths.  What  love 
and  condescension ! 

O  Lord  God,  thou  knowcst  my  dependence  upon  the 
grace  that  works  all  holy  conduct  in  thy  children.  Relying 
upon  that  grace,  I  will  endeavor  the  coming  year  to  live 
nearer  to  thee.  That  I  may  the  better  do  this,  I  do  re- 
solve :  — 

1.  That  I  will  rise  early  in  the  morning,  address  myself 
to  prayer  the  first  thing,  and  read  some  portion  of  the  He- 
brew and  Greek  Scriptures. 

2.  That  I  will  exercise  at  least  half  an  hour  every  morning, 
vigorous  exercise. 

3.  That  I  will  have  a  season  of  prayer  at  noon. 

4.  That  I  will  always  pray  immediately  before  and  after 
preaching. 

5.  That  in  preparing  sermons  I  will  endeavor  to  present 
the  truth  to  my  own  heart  first,  that  I  may  be  the  subject  of 
the  same  emotions  I  would  awaken  in  others. 

6.  That  I  will  make  the  cross  of  Christ  the  centre. 


FIRST  PASTORATE.  65 

7.  That  I  will  spend  some  time  every  day,  if  possible,  in 
visiting  the  people  to  whom  I  preach. 

May  my  labors  result  in  the  conversion  of  sinners  and  the 
glory  of  God  I 

July  1,  1843.  Continued  to  preach  for  the  Second-avenue 
Church,  worshiping  in  a  hall  till  21st  of  June,  1843,  when  I 
was  ordained  over  the  same  congregation,  having  changed 
its  name  to  "The  Sixth-street  Presbyterian  Church."  A 
unanimous  call  was  extended  to  me  the  16th  of  the  previous 
February.  This  I  decided  to  accept  long  before  my  ordina- 
tion, but  thought  it  best  to  defer  that  service  till  the  house, 
which  was  then  being  erected,  should  fee  completed.  It  was 
dedicated  June  18,  1843. 

Sabbath,  June  28.  Have  to-day  administered  the  s.acra- 
ment  of  the  Lord's  Supper  for  the  first  time. 

July  16,  1845.  The  church  to  which  I  preach  is  gradually 
increasing.  I  love  to  preach.  I  want  more  holiness.  The 
people  treat  me  better  than  I  deserve.  God  is  infinitely 
good.     O  that  I  might  serve  him  with  all  my  powers ! 

Mr.  Eaton's  connection  with  the  Sixth-street  Church  introduced  him 
to  an  exceptionally  choice  band  of  believers.  Their  meetings  for 
prayer  and  social  intercourse  often  seemed  "quite  on  the  verge  of 
heaven."  Of  the  youth  connected  with  the  Sabbath-school  during  his 
pastorate  in  New  York,  many  are  now  doing  noble  service  for  the  world 
as  philanthropists  and  standard-bearers  of  the  Lord's  host.  Eight  of 
them  became  preachers  of  the  gospel,  —  Rev.  Charles  Baird,  D.D.,  Prof. 
Henry  Baird,  D.D.,  Rev.  David  S.  Dodge,  Rev.  George  H.  Griffin,  Rev. 
Howard  Kingsbury,^  Rev.  Oliver  Kingsbury,  Rev.  Lewis  Reid,  D.D., 
Rev.  Theodore  F.  White,  D.D. 

Hon.  William  E.  Dodge  was  a  member  of  his  session.  Soon  after  the 
death  of  ]Mr.  Dodge,  and  a  short  time  before  his  own,  he  prepared,  at 
the  request  of  Mrs.  Dodge,  a  letter  containing  reminiscences  of  her 
deceased  husband.  In  it  are  facts  relating  to  his  first  pastorate.  Por- 
tions of  it  are  therefore  introduced :  — 

Palmyra,  April,  1883. 

Some  six  months  before  I  was  to  leave  the  Union  Theo- 
logical Seminary  in  New  York,  in  the  winter  of  1841-42,  Mr. 
John  McChain,  a  grave  and  elderlj^  gentleman,  called  at  my 

1  Pastor  of  Congregational  Church,  Amherst,  Mass.,  deceased  Sept.  28, 1878. 


56  REV.   HORACE   EATON,   D.D. 

room,  and  invited  me  to  speak  tlie  next  Sabbath  morning,  to 
a  few  people  who  worshiped  in  Temperance  Hall,  near  Fourth 
Street,  in  the  Bowery.  "  The  audience  will  be  small,"  he  said, 
"and  the  opportunity  a  good  one  for  a  young  man  to  improve 
his  gifts  and  graces  for  more  public  duties."  I  felt  the  need 
of  the  improvement,  and  accepted  the  invitation.  I  had  two 
or  three  sermons  written  with  some  care ;  but  they  seemed 
unfit  for  so  informal  an  occasion,  and,  seizing  upon  the  text 
"  God  forbid  that  I  should  glory  save  in  the  cross,"  I  wrote 
what  I  could,  and  depended  upon  the  spur  of  the  occasion  to 
eke  out  the  remainder.  The  Sabbath  morning  was  sleety, 
the  way  to  Temperance  Hall  fiM'bidding.  As  I  ascended 
the  platform,  and  looked  around  upon  the  audience,  I  saw  I 
was  in  a  trap.  Here  and  there  I  observed  a  learned  professor 
or  teacher  I  had  seen  before.  The  entire  hall  was  filled  with 
men  of  culture  and  standing,  assembled  with  their  families 
to  hear  the  word  of  God.  The  singing  was  led  by  Rev.  Dr. 
J.  J.  Owen,  the  commentator.  "And  these,"  thought  I,  "are 
the  few  people,  and  this  the  place  for  a  young  man  to  improve 
his  gifts!"  As  I  came  to  my  first  sermon,  —  the  light  was 
bad,  the  writing  worse,  —  I  blundered,  boggled.  What  could 
I  do  ?  I  threw  away  my  paper,  struck  at  a  few  points,  and 
said  "Amen."  To  me  the  service  was  a  memorable  one. 
Could  I  have  found  some  subterranean  passage  I  would  have 
gone  quickly  out  of  sight  of  my  audience,  never  to  meet  them 
more. 

But  in  the  third  seat,  with  his  M'ife  and  children,  I  saw  a 
man  of  expressive  and  beautiful  countenance,  whose  face 
beamed  with  sympathy  for  my  confusion.  At  the  close  of 
the  service  he  came  up  to  me,  and  gave  me  his  hand.  It 
was  my  first  introduction  to  William  E.  Dodge.  Without 
cutting  the  seam  of  truth  he  spoke  kindly,  referred  to  this 
and  that  point  in  the  sermon  fitted  to  do  good.  After  Sab- 
bath-school he  invited  me  to  dinner.  The  wise  and  thought- 
ful words  of  Mrs.  Dodge,  the  smiles  of  the  children,  charmed 
away  the  fever  of  my  cliagrin,  and  let  me  down  into  something 
of  hopefulness  and  rest.  .  .  . 

It  was  not  strange  that  a  band  of  laborers  such  as  met  in 


FIRST  PASTORATE.  57 

that  hall  should  be  visited  with  the  refreshings  of  the  Spirit. 
Men  and  women  were  there  converted,  who  "have  stood  like 
pillars  in  the  house  of  God.     This  revival  inspired  a  courage 
that  led  to  the  erection  of  a  small  but  comely  sanctuar}^  where 
for^  seven  years  we  worshiped  as  "  The  Sixth-street  Presby- 
terian Church."     I  well  remember  when  Mr.  Dodge  headed 
the  subscription,  and  with    true    business  decision    brought 
others   to   the  test  which  secured  sums  that  warranted  the 
enterprise.  .  .  .  The  hive  was  small,  but  composed  of  work- 
ing-bees.     A  number  of  precious  ingatherings  marked  the 
seven  years.     Mr.  Dodge  assured  me  that,  in  the  communion 
and  worship  of  that  little  church,  he  partook  of  some  of  the 
richest  clusters  he  was  ever  permitted  to  pluck.     Here  his 
younger  children  were  baptized.     Here  his  older  sons  came 
out,  and  subscribed  with  their  own  hands  to  be  the  Lord's. 
When  his  three  eldest  sons  united  Avith  the  church,  I  tliink 
the  two  grandfathers  and  two  grandmothers  were  present. 
Whether  Mr.  Dodge  attracted  the  ministers,  or  the  ministers 
Mr.  Dodge,  I  will  not  decide.     This,  however,  is  true,  that 
the  families  of  seven  distinguished  clergymen  cast  in  their 
lot  with  the  Sixth-street  Church.     Our  meetings  were  fre- 
quently enriched  by  the  presence  and  words  of  Rev.  Drs. 
Armstrong,   White,  Baird,   Spaulding,   Sawtell,   and    Owen, 
bringing  in  sheaves  from  their  different  fields  of  Christian 
work ;  and,  led  by  the  munificence  of  Mr.  Dodge,  the  various 
benevolent  societies  were  generously  supported.  .  .  . 

As  pastor  of  a  country  parish  I  should  be  ungrateful  not 
to  mention  personal  favors.  Did  the  eye  of  Mr.  Dodge  light 
upon  a  book  that  would  help  me,  he  wrote  my  name  in  it, 
and  forwarded  it.  Did  my  health  demand  rest,  he  provided 
means  for  travel  and  recovery.  If  worn  down  with  revival 
work,  he  sent  me  reapers,  by  Avhom  large  ingatherings  were 
secured  for  the  garner.  By  more  than  one  visit,  accompanied 
by  Mrs.  Dodge,  he  has  strengthened  my  hands,  and,  by  his 
presence  and  eloquent  words  in  public,  given  new  impetus  to 
every  good  cause.  .   .  . 

We  insert  a  few  sentences  of  a  letter  from  Mr.  Dodge,  in  which  he 
alludes  to  their  early  acquaintance :  — 


58  llEV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

July  1,  1880. 

...  As  T  read  to  Mrs.  Dodge  the  letter  you  sent  me,  carrying  us 
back  to  those  old  and  blessed  days  when  we  first  knew  each  other,  and 
particularly  to  that  first  sermon  you  preached  in  tliat  room,  corner  Sec- 
ond Street  and  the  Bowery,  wife  said  she  had  never  forgotten  it.  She 
was  deeply  interested  in  it.  Oh,  how  God  has  led  us  all  from  those 
small  beginnings,  and  helped  us  to  do  something  for  the  advancement  of 
his  cause !  Soon  we  shall  be  done  with  the  earthly  work,  but  we  will 
keep  doing  so  long  as  God  gives  strength.  .  .  . 

It  was  a  source  of  regret  to  Mr.  Eaton  that  his  chirography  was  so 
rapid  and  indistinct  as  often  to  fetter  himself,  and  annoy  his  corre- 
spondents.i  Playfully  to  suggest  an  improvement,  his  friend,  Mr.  Dodge, 
sent  him  an  elegant  gold  pen.  We  copy  his  note  of  acknowledgment, 
■written  by  himself,  in  really  a  good,  round  hand  :  — 

I  appreciate  the  pertinence  of  your  recent  favor.  Its  pure 
material  is  a  fit  emblem  of  the  unalloyed  kindness  it  denotes, 
and  in  the  nice  and  delicate  point  there  is  a  gentle  and  defi- 
nite hint  as  to  the  exact  thing  to  be  done.  With  the  assist- 
ance of  Him  "  who  teacheth  my  hands  to  war,  and  my  fingers 
to  fight,"  I  hope  yet  to  handle  the  pen  of  a  ready  and  legible 
writer,  and  thus  the  patron  and  the  preacher  may  rejoice 

together. 

Your  grateful  friend  and  brother, 

H.  Eaton. 

He  was  married  Aug.  18,  1845,  to  Anna  R.  Webster  of  Boscawen, 
N.H. 

In  a  letter  wn-itten  to  his  sister  previous  to  this  event  he  says  :  — 

As  to  the  young  lady  in  question,  she  suits  me.  ...  I  trust 
our  dear  mother  and  the  widow  of  the  beloved  old  pastor, 
Mrs.  Dr.  Samuel  Wood,  now  nearly  ninety,  will  be  able  to 
be  present  at  our  wedding. 

In  the  tw^o  following  letters  he  refers  to  his  sick  mother,  who  was 
nearing  her  heavenly  home.  Busy  as  he  was  in  his  first  parish,  he  never 
forgot  or  neglected  her  :  — 

1  It  was  a  privilege  for  which  the  compiler  of  these  pages  will  ever  be 
grateful,  that  she  was  permitted  to  be  to  him  wliat  Tertius  (Kom.  1G:22)  and 
other  copyists  were  to  Paul.  There  were  rewards  that  came  to  tlie  mind  and 
heart  of  tlie  amanuensis  beside  the  appreciative  and  often-spoken  word, 
"  That  little  right  hand  is  worth  thousands  of  dollars  to  me." 


FIRST  PASTORATE.  59 

Aug.  24,  1847. 

My  dear  Sister  Rebecca,  —  To  me  it  is  a  sad  reflection 
that  every  time  I  bid  farewell  to  our  dear  aged  mother  it 
may  be  the  last.  The  thing  that  we  have  greatly  feared  will 
soon  come  upon  us  as  a  family.  .  .   . 

God  loves  the  character  renewed  and  sanctified  by  his  own 
spirit.  He  will  appoint  her  death.  He  will  allow  only  so 
many  days  of  suffering  as  shall  be  for  her  eternal  good.  An 
everlasting  rest  awaits  her.  If  we  are  not  saved  ourselves, 
we  have  great  reason  to  rejoice  that  a  mansion  is  made  ready 
for  our  dear  mother.  A  sweet  and  heavenly  peace  pervades 
her  mind. 

Did  I  ever  tell  you  of  an  interview  with  mother  just  before 
I  commenced  to  preach?  It  marked  an  era  in  my  spiritual 
life.  It  was  during  a  summer  vacation  spent  with  her  at 
Brother  Jacob's  in  Bristol.  One  day  she  invited  me  into  her 
own  room,  and  there,  in  the  most  earnest,  solemn,  affectionate 
manner,  she  urged  upon  me  the  desirableness,  the  duty,  the 
necessity,  of  living  daily,  constantly,  in  near,  vital  union  and 
communion  with  Jesus  Christ.  She  warned  me  against  seek- 
ing mere  intellectual  development.  She  bade  me  beware  of 
earthly  ambitions.  Every  word  she  uttered  seemed  to  probe 
my  inmost  soul.  Then  she  knelt  down  by  me,  and  prayed 
as  in  my  childhood,  I  went  out  of  that  room  humbled  in  the 
dust,  another,  and  I  hope  a  better  man. 

Let  us  often  bless  God  that  we  have  had  such  a  mother. 
Committing  her  into  his  hands,  let  us  go  on  in  the  path  of 
obedience,  as  she  has  taught  us,  and  hope  at  last  to  meet  her 
again  in  heaven. 

New  York,  May  2,  1848. 

Dear  Brother  L.,  —  I  have  just  returned  from  Bristol, 
N.H.  .  .  .  The  pain  which  mother  suffers  is  constant,  some- 
times excruciating.  Her  inward  peace  is  like  a  river.  You 
could  not  provoke  a  murmur.  Never  have  I  seen  a  person  so 
calm,  bearing  with  such  fortitude,  and  trusting  with  such 
confidence.  I  was  particularly  struck  with  the  clear,  com- 
prehensive views  she  took  of  God's  providence  and  of  the 
great  plan  of  salvation  through  a  Redeemer.     There  is  not 


GO  REV.   HORACE  EATON,  D.D. 

the  first  mark  of  mental  weakness.  Each  word  is  of  the 
weight  of  a  talent.  Her  example,  spirit,  and  language  would 
refute  every  infidel.  .  .  . 

A  peaceful  dismission  was  granted  to  his  beloved  parent  Sept.  21, 
1848. 


CHAPTER  V. 

PIRST  TEN  YEARS   IN  PALMYRA, 
1849-1859. 

SETTLEMENT. —  FIRST   DEATH   IN   HIS    FAMILY. —  REVIVALS. 
INTEREST   IN   MISSIONS. 

The  location  of  the  Sixth-street  Church  was  unfortunate  for  perma- 
nence. The  foreign  population  began  to  occupy  exclusively  the  eastern 
part  of  New  York,  where  it  was  situated.  The  whole  movement  was 
up  town.  Early  in  the  winter  of  1849,  Mr.  Eaton  spent  an  evening  at 
the  house  of  his  friend,  Mr.  Dodge.  The  cousin  of  his  host,  Rev. 
Richard  F.  Cleveland  ^  of  Fayetteville,  N.Y.,  chanced  to  be  present. 
Mr.  C.  spoke  of  a  large  and  interesting  parish  in  AVestern  New  l'"ork, 
then  without  a  pastor,  and  inquired  if  Mr.  Eaton  would  go  to  Palmyra 
were  an  invitation  extended.  An  affirmative  answer  led  to  a  correspond- 
ence between  Mr.  C.  and  Stephen  Hyde,  Esq.,  one  of  the  trustees  of  the 
church.  A  call  was  made  out,  March  14,  1849.  He  was  installed  in  July 
following.  Rev.  S.  H.  Gridley,  D.D.,  of  Waterloo,  N.Y^.,  preached  the 
sermon,  and  Rev.  George  R,  H.  Shumway,  a  former  pastor,  gave  the 
charge  to  the  people.  His  introductory  discourse  was  preached  May  6, 
1849,  from  1  Cor.  2  : 1-5.  "  And  I,  brethren,  when  I  came  to  you,  came 
not  with  excellency  of  speech  or  of  wisdom,  declaring  unto  jon  the  testi- 
mony of  God.  For  I  determined  not  to  know  any  thing  among  you,  save 
Jesus  Christ  and  Him  crucified.  And  I  was  with  you  in  weakness  and 
in  fear  and  in  much  trembling.  And  my  speech  and  my  preaching  was 
not  with  enticing  words  of  man's  wisdom,  but  in  demonstration  of  the 
Spirit  and  of  power;  that  your  faith  should  not  stand  in  the  wisdom  of 
men,  but  in  the  power  of  God." 

The  times  that  went  over  the  church  and  the  nation  from  1849  to 
1879  were  perhaps  as  stirring  and  eventful  as  any  of  similar  duration  in 
the  past.  Blended  as  is  the  history  of  each  church  with  the  great  inter- 
ests of  education,  missionary  enterprise,  good  government,  and  reform, 
to  give  an  accurate  account  of  Dr.  Eaton's  pastorate  of  thirty  years  in 
Palmyra  would  require  volumes.     Several  could  easily  be  filled,  since  he 

1  Father  of  Hon.  Grover  Cleveland,  President-elect. 


02  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

has  left  a  journal  of  every  year,  detailing  in  brief  the  occurrences  of 
each  week  and  each  Sabbath. 

Upon  assuming  his  new  duties,  he  found  that  a  hea\-y  debt  lay  like  a 
pall  of  night  upon  the  church.  With  all  the  enthusiasm  of  his  nature  he 
set  liimself  to  remove  it.  It  is  often  true  that  when  it  can  be  said  of  a 
church  "  they  have  done  what  they  could,"  it  quickly  follows  that  they 
are  enabled  to  do  what  they  thought  they  could  not.  Soon  after  the 
liquidation  of  this  debt,  the  society  built  a  pleasant,  commodious  lecture- 
room,  and  dispensed  with  the  low  and  damp  basement  previously  used. 
Preceding  this  effort,  the  pastor  preached  a  sermon  upon  the  text,  "  And 
He  shall  show  you  a  large  upper  room  furnished ;  there  make  ready." 
I  lo  put  emphasis  upon  the  word  "  large,"  but  more  upon  the  word 
"  upper." 

In  1853  the  angel  of  death  for  the  first  time  visited  his  family.  In  a 
letter  of  condolence  written  ten  years  after  to  a  brother  who  had  lost  a 
little  daughter,  he  thus  refers  to  this  bereavement :  — 

Palmyra,  KY.,  July  13,  1803. 

My  dear  Brother  and  Sister,  —  Most  vividly  I  real- 
ize your  feelings.  Ten  years  ago  the  11th  of  next  Sep- 
tember, I  parted  with  the  loveliest  child  I  ever  saw,  —  my 
dear  Anna,  nearly  two  years  and  a  half  old.  Her  memory 
is  still  fragrant,  enchanting.  I  would  not  forget  this  most 
l)ainful  scene  of  my  life.  When  agonized  Avith  suffering,  slie 
would  look  up  to  me  with  imploring  confidence  for  help. 
And  she  did  not  refuse  to  take  medicine  from  my  hand,  to 
the  very  last.  She  was  twelve  hours  in  the  mortal  struggle. 
Such  were  her  sufferings,  I  was  thankful  when  her  breath 
was  gone.  Six  times,  during  a  sickness  of  eleven  days,  I 
})assed  through  the  alternations  of  hope  and  despair  in 
regard  to  her  life.  But  while  laying  away  the  dear  dust  in 
the  grave,  I  experienced  a  sweet  resignation.  To  look  back 
is  like  recovering  a  view  of  some  beautiful  shore  that  I  have 
left.  I  have  never  had  a  doubt  that  my  child  was  with 
Jesus.  I  sometimes  feel  that  she  loves  me  still,  and  lingers 
about  my  way  as  I  go  on  to  complete  my  pilgrimage.  The 
chastening  was  good  for  me.  It  was  the  chastening  of  a 
Katlier. 

My  dear  brother  and  sister,  I  rejoice  at  the  evidence  you 
have  that  Fannie   was  sealed  as   a   lamb  before   taken   by 


FIRST  DEATH  IN   THE   FAMILY.  63 

the  Good  Shepherd.  May  her  memory  make  the  promises, 
the  presence  of  Jesus,  and  heaven  itself  more  real,  more 
precious.  .  .  . 

I  would  not  seek  honors,  riches,  or  pleasure  for  my  chil- 
dren ;  but  I  would  have  them  love  and  glorify  God.  I  try 
to  give  them  up  to  Christ  every  day ;  and  I  bless  His  holy 
name  for  the  evidence  that  my  dear  John  has  chosen  the 
good  part  that  cannot  be  taken  from  him.  A  few  weeks  ago 
he  came  out  with  some  twenty  others,  and  subscribed  with 
his  own  hands  to  be  the  Lord's.  My  trust  for  ray  children 
is  in  sovereign  grace. 

I  have  been  thinking  how  many  of  our  family  are  still 
spared.  Ten  are  left.  As  far  as  I  know,  but  two  of  our 
mother's  children  have  passed  away :  an  infant  and  Sister  R. 
And,  if  I  count  right,  there  are  twenty-two  grandchildren 
living.  It  was  mother's  earnest  prayer  that  her  descendants 
should  be  found  in  the  covenant  of  grace.  May  God  help  us 
to  carr}'^  out  her  desire  for  ourselves  and  our  families  ! 

Your  brother  in  the  flesh,  in  the  faith,  and  in  affliction, 

H.  Eaton. 


Dr.  Eaton  believed  in  genuine  revivals  of  religion.  He  saw  an  anal- 
ogy between  physical  and  spiritual  husbandry.  He  therefore  watched-, 
worked,  and  waited  not  only  for  "  the  dew  that  descends  upon  the  moun- 
tains of  Zion,"  but  for  "  the  small  rain  and  the  great  rain  of  his 
strength."  He  was  not  disappointed.  Delightful  were  the  refreshings 
of  the  Spirit  that  often  visited  his  congregation.  In  the  widespread 
revival  of  1857-58,  the  church  in  Palmyra  richly  shared.  Was  the  bap- 
tism of  holy  fire  then  preparing  our  beloved  land  for  the  baptism  of 
blood  so  soon  to  follow?  In  every  pure  and  general  revival  some  one 
particular  Bible  truth  seems  to  be  vitalized  and  impressed  by  the  Holy 
Spirit  upon  the  hearts  of  the  people,  and  this  without  any  concert 
among  leaders  in  Christian  work.  All  sermons  and  appeals  in  this 
revival  centred  in  the  first  three  words  of  Ileb.  12:2,  '■'■Looking  unto 
Jesus." 

That  year  marked  a  great  epoch  in  Dr.  Eaton's  religious  life.  He 
seemed  to  attain  a  rest  and  confidence  in  Christ  unknown  before. 
Attending  the  change  there  was  an  increased  fear  of  grieving  the  Holy 
Spirit,  greater  power  in  the  pulpit  and  upon  the  hearts  of  men. 

A  letter  written  at  this  time  to  his  brother  reveals  his  new  views :  — 


64  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

Palmyra,  N.Y.,  Jan.  6,  1858. 

My  dear  Brother  J.,  —  .  .  .  We  have  received  some 
eighty  to  our  church  this  year,  on  profession ;  and  the  type 
of  piety  seems  to  be  that  which  has  roots. 

I  think  my  own  soul  has  been  greatly  blessed  with  the 
presence  of  Jesus  Christ.  I  have  found  joy  and  life  and 
strength  in  Ilim.  I  have  felt  that  I  was  clothed  with  His 
righteousness,  and  accepted  in  His  sight.  .  .  . 

Does  not  Jesus  say  to  His  Father  that  He  had  loved  His 
disciples  as  the  Father  had  loved  himself?  "To  as  many  as 
received  Jesus,  there  was  given  power  to  become  the  sons  of 
God,  even  to  them  that  believe  on  His  name."  What  is  it  to 
be  sons  of  God?  It  is  to  resemble  God,  to  be  a  brother  with 
Christ,  to  have  the  free  spirit  of  love  and  adoption,  to  be  an 
heir  of  God,  —  and  all  this  by  simply  receiving  Christ  as  our 
Teacher,  Sacrifice,  and  Master.  Some  achieve  greatness  by 
intense  exertion ;  but  we  receive  glory,  honor,  and  immor- 
tality by  receiving  Christ.  This  I  think  the  true  idea  of 
faith.  It  is  receiving  Christ.  That  simple  act  puts  us  in 
possession  of  all  necessary  good.  This  union  to  Jesus  is  the 
condition  of  strength.  All  the  trials  and  embarrassments  of 
life  are  removed  or  borne  b}'  this  blessed  assistance. 

Christ  is  the  key  that  opens  all  the  treasures  of  grace, 
strength,  holiness,  jo)\  All  things  are  ours  if  Christ  is  ours. 
Dear  brother,  cast  all  your  care  upon  Jesus,  for  He  careth 
for  you. 

In  coming  to  Palmyra,  Mr.  Eaton  was  both  surprised  and  gratified  at 
the  interest  taken  by  his  church  in  the  cause  of  foreign  missions.  This 
was  due,  in  part,  to  the  fact  that  one  of  its  clierished  and  devoted  mem- 
bers, ]\Iis.s  ]\Iartha  Lovell,  had  recently  assumed  the  charge  of  tlie  Young 
Ladies'  Seminary  at  Constantinople.  On  INIiss  Lovell's  marriage  to  Rev. 
Dr.  Cyrus  Ilamlin,  she  naturally  looked  to  her  native  town  for  her  suc- 
cessor in  the  school.  The  lot  fell  on  Miss  Maria  A.  West,  who  sailed 
from  Boston,  January,  1853.  A  meeting  of  great  interest  was  held  on  the 
Sabbath  evening  previous  to  her  leaving  Palmyra.  The  youthful  laborer 
felt  encouraged  and  sustained  by  the  farewell  words  of  her  pastor. 
Abating  brief  intervals  occasioned  by  ill  health,  ISliss  West  has  resided 
in  the  East  ever  since.     Iler  work  there  has  been  self-sacrificing  and  full 


REVIVALS.        ^  65 

of  toil,  but  most  effective  and  successful.     Multitudes  of  Syrian  women 
and  Syrian  homes  even  now  arise  and  call  her  blessed. 

It  was  a  source  of  gratitude  to  the  subject  of  this  memorial,  that  his 
church  had  sent  out  three  foreign  missionaries,  beside  many  faithful 
home  missionaries.  We  have  seldom  seen  him  more  pleased  than  when 
he  ascertained  the  fact  that  a  native  of  Palmyra,  an  esteemed  friend,  had 
had  a  most  important  agency  in  the  establishment  of  the  Micronesian 
mission.  He  gives  us  the  narrative  of  the  two  instrumentalities  which 
in  so  wonderful  a  manner  brought  about  this  result :  — 

In  1809,  an  olive-colored  boy  ^  was  found  sitting,  weeping, 
on  the  steps  of  Yale  College.  The  good  people  befriended 
him.  He  was  converted,  educated.  He  was  eager  to  carry 
the  good  news  of  salvation  to  his  native  islands.  Just  as  he 
was  ready  to  sail,  an  acute  disease  laid  him  in  the  grave. 

But  the  fire  he  had  kindled  did  not  go  out.  In  October,  1819, 
Hiram  Bingham  and  five  others  embarked  from  Long  Wharf, 
Boston,  as  missionaries  to  the  Sandwich  Islands.  March  31, 
1820,  they  caught,  by  moonlight,  the  first  glimpse  of  Hawaii. 
The  inhabitants  had  just  cast  away  their  idols.  They  wel- 
comed the  missionaries.  Their  language  was  reduced  to 
writing.  The  Bible  was  printed.  Revival  succeeded  revival 
till  the  islands  came  under  the  power  of  the  gospel  and  the 
Sabbath.  From  1838  to  1843,  twenty-seven  thousand  were 
admitted  to  the  churches. 

As  the  years  passed  on,  the  converts  of  the  Sandwich 
Islands  longed  to  send  the  gospel,  which  had  so  blessed  them, 
to  the  destitute  "regions  beyond."  They  felt  the  same  inter- 
est for  the  Micronesian  Islands  that  New  England  Christians 
had  for  them  thirty  years  before.  But  as  yet  no  organiza- 
tion had  been  formed,  no  particular  direction  given  to  their 

zeal. 

And  here  comes  in  another  link  of  the  great  chain  of  God's 
providence.  Ira  Lakey,  son  of  Mr.  Abner  Lakey  of  Palmyra, 
had  learned  the  watch  and  clock  making  business ;  but  the 
way  seemed  obstructed.  Good  offers  induced  him  to  enter 
the  whaling  service  at  New  Bedford.  He  first  went  out  as  a 
sailor ;  was  soon  promoted,  and  took  command  of  the  bark 

1  Henry  Obookiah. 


66  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

"Harvest."  I  give  you  here  what  he  told  me  himself.  The 
owners  of  the  ship  were  generous  to  him,  and  lie  felt  his 
responsibility  to  bring  them  a  good  return.  He  sped  to  the 
southern  Pacific.  On  the  coast  of  Kusaie,  or  Strong's  Island, 
one  of  the  Carolines,  he  was  stranded  on  a  coral  reef,  and  a 
huge  rent  made  in  his  vessel.  Captain  Lakey's  hopes  were 
dashed ;  but  he  did  not  give  up  the  ship.  He  had  no  tools 
with  which  to  make  repairs,  but  sucli  as  his  own  ingenuity 
could  invent.  Fortunately,  one  of  the  crew  could  speak  the 
language  of  the  people.  The  king  Avas  at  the  time  danger- 
ously sick.  The  countenance  and  bearing  of  Captain  Lakey 
would  have  inspired  the  respect  and  confidence  of  civilized 
sovereigns.  As  it  was,  this  Pagan  chief  gladly  accepted  his 
offer  to  prescribe  for  him.  Captain  Lakey  watched  and 
studied  the  king's  case  with  the  utmost  attention.  He  recov- 
ered. Nothing  could  exceed  his  gratitude  and  that  of  his 
subjects.  They  brought  to  the  seamen,  day  by  day,  fish, 
pigeons,  bananas,  the  fruit  of  the  pandanus-tree,  and  the 
cocoanut-palm.  Captain  Lakey  rigged  a  home-made  jack, 
and  with  ropes  and  pulleys,  and  the  help  of  one  hundred  or 
more  of  the  natives,  whom  he  hired  of  the  king,  he  pulled 
the  vessel  upon  its  side.  He  himself  made  the  plank.  The 
island  afforded  fine  timber.  He  took  the  copper  from  the 
upper  part  of  the  ship,  where  it  was  not  so  much  needed,  and 
covered  the  bottom.  In  like  manner  he  repaired  the  other 
side  of  the  vesseL  All  this  took  some  three  months.  "Good 
King  George "  and  Captain  Lakey  had  many  conversations 
with  each  other.  A  great  friendshi[)  sprung  up  between  the 
captain  and  the  king's  little  son,  a  bright  boy  four  or  five 
years  old.  The  king  was  most  desirous  to  learn  about  the 
United  States,  and  the  reasons  why  the  people  there  were  so 
much  better  off  than  in  his  own  country.  He  insisted  that 
Captain  Lakey  read  and  preach  from  the  Bible  to  them 
every  Sabbath  day.  In  relating  this,  the  cai)tain  said,  "I 
couldn't  do  it  as  well  as  you,  parson,  but  I  did  as  well  as 
I  could."  The  wild  and  unclad  savages  listened  with  the 
utmost  attention;  and,  when  Captain  Lakey  left. Kusaie,  the 
king  obtained   a    promise  from  him  that  he  would  do    his 


MISSIONS.  —  BENE  VOLENCE.  67 

Utmost  to  send  them  missionary  teachers.  For  this  purpose 
he  sailed  two  thousand  miles  out  of  his  way  to  interview 
Rev.  S.  C.  Damon,  D.D.,  seaman's  chaplain  at  Honolulu, 
Sandwich  Islands,  with  whom  he  was  well  acquainted.  To 
him  he  preseuted  their  appeal.  Wonderful  to  tell,  it  came 
at  just  the  right  time.  It  exactly  met  the  awakened  interest 
of  the  Sandwich  Island  Christians. 

They  at  once  organized  a  missionary  society.  In  1852 
three  missionaries,  with  their  wives  and  two  Hawaiian  teach- 
ers, went  out  to  Kusaie.  Finding  that  they  needed  "  a  small 
ship  to  wait  upon  "  them  as  they  cruised  among  the  islands, 
they  wrote  to  the  rooms  of  the  Board  at  Boston.  A  respon- 
sive thrill  went  through  the  Sabbath-schools  of  the  land ; 
and  the  first  "  Morning  Star,"  ^  a  brigantine,  costing  ti)18,351, 
was  launched  November,  1856. 

Twenty  years  after  Captain  Lakey's  shipwreck,  lie  visited 
again  his  old  landing-place.  But  how  changed  !  The  former 
king  was  dead.  The  young  prince,  a  Christian  ruler,  remem- 
bered him.  Under  his  lead  and  that  of  the  missionaries,  the 
people,  now  neatl}^  dressed,  assembled  on  tlie  shore  in  an 
orderly  manner,  and  formally  greeted  their  benefactor  by 
singing  sweet  songs  and  hymns  of  praise  to  God.  The  New 
Testament  and  Christian  books  had  been  introduced;  the 
Sabbath  was  observed ;  and  the  voice  of  jjrayer  went  up  from 
their  families  and  their  churches. 

Baptized  as  was  Mr.  Eaton  at  his  conversion  in  the  spirit  of  missions, 
the  flame  on  the  altar  never  burned  low.  He  aimed  to  make  the  monthly- 
concert  the  most  interesting  evening  meeting  of  the  month.  Nor  was 
the  collection  forgotten.  Just  before  it  was  taken,  we  have  heard  him 
repeat  this  passage,  "  Is  not  the  gleaning  of  the  grapes  of  Ephraim  better 


1  The  fourth  Morning  Star,  a  steamer,  Captain  Bray,  sailed  from  Boston 
at  eleven  o'clock  on  Wednesday,  Nov.  5,  1884.  A  party  of  about  forty  friends, 
mainly  from  tlie  Congregational  House,  accompanied  her  down  the  harbor;  a 
brief  prayer  was  offered,  and  tlie  Missionary  Plymn  sung.  It  was  an  impres- 
sive scene,  as  the  wind  filled  her  white  sails  and  she  went  out  to  sea  to  the 
music  of 

"  Waft,  waft,  ye  winds,  His  story," 

followed  by  cheers  and  the  waving  of  handkerchiefs.  —  The  Conjregationalist. 


68  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

than  the  vintage  of  "Abiezer  ?  "     He  loved  alike  both  departments  of  the 
missionary  work,  —  the  home  and  the  foreign. 

"\^'e  subjoin  extracts  from  three  sermons  on  the  moral  condition  of  the 
heathen,  and  our  duty  to  them  :  — 

Acts  17:  26,27.  "And  hath  made  of  one  blood  all 
nations  of  men  for  to  dwell  on  all  the  face  of  the  earth.  .  .  . 
That  they  should  seek  the  Lord,  if  haply  they  might  feel 
after  Him  .  .  .  though  He  be  not  far  from  every  one  of  us." 

.  .  .  From  the  doctrines  thus  illustrated  it  is  legitimate  to 
draw  one  or  two  inferences. 

If  all  men  are  derived  from  one  blood,  and  owe  alle- 
giance to  one  and  the  same  Jehovah,  then  their  moral  nature 
and  necessities  are  the  same.  They  have  a  common  discern- 
ment to  see  the  great  hand  of  God  in  His  works  and  in  His 
providence,  a  common  conscience  to  feel  obligation,  common 
affections,  and  will  to  love  and  serve  Him.  Without  these 
moi'ul  elements,  they  cannot  belong  to  the  human  family. 

Perhaps  you  have  sometimes  been  conscious  of  a  kind  of 
dubiosity  in  your  own  mind  as  to  the  moral  condition  and 
destiny  of  the  heathen.  Perhaps  the  feeling  has  stolen  over 
you  that  the  Hottentot,  Caffre,  Esquimau,  are  not  equally 
human  with  yourself,  not  subject  to  the  same  probation ; 
are  not  to  meet  with  3'ou  on  the  same  basis  at  the  judg- 
ment, and,  according  to  their  character  and  conduct,  "to 
receive  the  frown  or  the  welcome  of  the  final  Judge."  Has 
not  this  subtle  error  insinuated  itself  into  tiie  feelings, 
though  it  may  not  be  acknowledged  in  the  understanding  ? 

What,  then,  is  the  moral  condition  of  the  heathen?  Scep- 
tical minds  have  taken,  at  different  times,  directly  opposite 
views  iu  regard  to  their  religious  prospects.  At  one  time 
they  have  extolled  human  nature,  human  reason,  the  unaided 
sentiments  and  conceptions  of  the  soul,  to  such  a  degree  as  to 
make  missionary  work,  or  even  revelation,  unnecessary.  By 
the  pale  star  of  Nature  man  can  guide  his  bark  across  the  sea 
of  life,  and  safely  enter  the  haven  of  immortality.  .  .  .  By  such 
reasoning  and  declamation,  a  large  jiortion  of  the  world  free 
themselves  of  any  obligation  to  send  them  the  gospel. 
"The   heathen,"  say  they,   "know  enough  already   by  the 


MISSIONS.  —  BENE  VOLENCE.  69 

teachings    of    reacon    and    conscience,    and    the    light    of 
Nature." 

But  bring  these  exalters  of  human  wisdom  to  the  kraal, 
the  habitations  of  filth,  cruelty,  infanticide,  all  the  kinds  of 
crime  and  loathsome  degradation  which  everywhere  prevail 
in  heathendom,  and  in  sight  of  the  moral  pestilence  press 
upon  them  the  eternal  prospects  of  the  Pagan  world,  —  surely, 
if  the  light  of  reason  is  so  great  as  to  supersede  divine  reve- 
lation, then  these  nations  are  without  excuse  for  perverting 
such  light,  for  "  changing  the  glory  of  the  incorruptible  God 
into  images  made  like  unto  corruptible  man  and  four-footed 
beasts  and  creeping  things."  Their  light  renders  them  ter- 
ribly to  blame  for  their  impiety  toward  God,  and  cruelty  to 
man.  By  as  much  as  their  knowledge  of  duty  outruns  their 
character  and  conduct,  by  so  much  "  they  have  loved  dark- 
ness ratlier  than  light,  because  their  deeds  were  evil." 
According  to  the  sceptic's  own  showing,  they  are  brought 
in  guilty  before   God. 

But  just  here  it  is  not  uncommon  for  unbelievers  in  di- 
vine revelation  to  fasten  on  the  other  horn  of  the  dilemma. 
They  deny  that  any  light  shines  upon  the  heathen  mind; 
they  are  too  imbruted  and  debased  to  be  more  accountable 
than  the  wild  beasts  of  the  field.  Here,  again,  they  get  quit 
of  any  obligation  to  send  them  the  gospel  of  Christ.  In  one 
case,  they  have  all  the  light  necessary :  in  the  other,  they 
have  not  light  enough  to  make  them  responsible  or  bring 
them  under  condemnation. 

Now,  just  between  these  two  extremes,  the  word  of  God 
shows  tiie  heathen  world  both  needy  and  guilty.  It  is 
alike  the  sentiment  of  the  Bible  and  of  common  sense,  that 
according  to  a  knowledge  of  duty  so  is  the  guilt  of  disobedi- 
ence. "  He  who  knew  his  Lord's  will  and  did  it  not  was 
beaten  with  many  stripes ;  but  he  that  knew  not,  and  did 
commit  things  worthy  of  stripes,  shall  be  beaten  with  few 
stripes."  Should  Gabriel  refuse  obedience  amidst  the  efful- 
gence of  heaven,  he  would  fall  correspondingly  low  in 
deserved  ruin. 

Does  a  human  soul  of  exalted  privileges  cast  off  fear,  and 
restrain  prayer,  Christ's  word  to  him  is,  — 


70  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

"  Woe  unto  thee,  Chorazin  !  woe  unto  thee,  Bethsaida  !  It 
shall  be  more  tolerable  for  Tyre  and  Sidon  at  the  day  of 
judgment  than  for  3^011." 

Does  the  child  of  poverty  and  crime  in  onr  cities  violate 
his  moral  ideas,  his  conceptions  of  God,  justice,  and  duty, 
wliich,  if  he  would  follow,  would  bring  him  to  the  house  of 
God,  to  Christ,  and  to  heaven,  he  is  brought  in  guilty  before 
God.  Step  from  the  most  degraded  soul  in  Christian  lands 
to  the  most  enlightened  Pagan  mind.  There,  too,  you  will 
find  moral  ideas,  convictions  of  duty  to  God,  and  justice  to 
man.  If  he  choose  vsensual  indulgence,  if  he  turn  from  the 
light,  if  he  do  not  retain  God  in  his  knowledge,  he  also  falls 
under  a  corresponding  condemnation. 

So  3-0U  may  descend  by  successive  steps  to  the  lowest 
depths  of  human  degradation,  and  even  there  you  will  find  a 
mind,  a  conscience,  a  heart,  which  will  meet  rays  of  divine 
light  as  it  looks  out  upon  the  creation  and  providence  of 
God.  These,  if  cherished  by  a  sincere  and  pure  desire  to 
know  and  do  the  will  of  God,  will  lead  the  soul  to  holiness 
and  heaven.  But  if,  from  a  perverse  will,  he  prefer  to  enjoy 
the  pleasures  of  sin,  he  also  falls  under  condemnation  pro- 
portionate to  the  light  he  despises. 

It  is  thus  we  see  the  Bible  presents  a  principle  of  justice 
and  retribution  that  brings  "  the  whole  world  guilty  before 
God."  Paul  has  made  this  point  clear  in  the  first  of 
Romans.  Speaking  directly  of  the  heathen  world,  he  says, 
"The  wrath  of  God  is  revealed  from  heaven  against  all 
ungodliness  and  unrighteousness  of  men,  who  hold  the  truth 
in  unrighteousness.  Because  that  which  may  be  known  of 
God  is  manifest  in  them,  for  God  hath  showed  it  unto  them. 
For  the  invisible  things  of  Ilim  from  the  creation  of  the 
world  are  clearly  seen,  being  understood  l)y  the  things  that 
are  made,  even  his  eternal  power  and  Godhead,  so  that  they 
are  without  excuse." 

This  reasoniug  of  the  apostle  is  vindicated  by  the  testi- 
mony of  our  missionaries.  When  they  call  the  darkest  mind 
to  look  into  liis  own  conscit)usness,  into  the  providence  and 
works  of  the  Creator,  into  the  sea  and  lightning  and  seasons, 


MISSIONS.  —  BENE  VOLENCE.  71 

they  never  fail  to  elicit  a  response  in  ideas  of  God  and 
accountability  to  Him.  With  significance  of  voice  and  ges- 
ture, the  veteran  Dr.  Lindley,  for  thirty  years  a  missionary 
in  South  Africa,  said  to  me,  "Every  word  that  Paul 
uttered  in  the  first  chapter  of  Romans  in  regard  to  the  hea- 
then is  true  now.  The  heathen  know  better.  When  they 
thieve  and  lie,  and  sell  their  children  for  oxen,  they  are 
conscious  of  wrong  doing;  they  feel  guilty.  The  trouble 
with  them  is,  'they  do  7iot  like  to  retain  God  in  their 
knowledge.' "... 

It  is  evident,  then,  that  the  heathen  are  of  the  same  family 
as  ourselves.  They  are  under  the  same  law,  launched  upon 
the  same  probation,  condemned  by  the  same  principles.  All 
of  us  have  light  enough  to  make  us  accountable,  and  to  bind 
us  over  to  the  same  judgment-seat. 

We  come,  then,  to  this  scriptural,  incontrovertible  position. 
The  heathen  are  neither  angels  nor  apes,  but  m'en,  sinners  of 
one  blood  with  ourselves,  of  the  same  tainted  blood,  poisoned 
by  the  tooth  of  the  old  serpent,  our  moral  relish  depraved. 

"  What  a  fall  was  there,  my  brethren, 
When  you  and  I  and  all  of  us  fell  down  1 " 

I  take  by  the  hand  the  wildest  son  of  the  forest,  with  black 
hair  and  eyes,  and  high  clieek-bones.  He  is  my  brother,  the 
son  of  my  mother  Eve.  We  are  alike  diseased.  We  are 
fellow-sufferers.  There  is  the  same  quarrel  between  his 
passions  and  conscience  as  between  mine.  We  are  fellow- 
criminals.  We  have  broken  the  same  law,  offended  the  same 
Creator  and  Judge,  and  are  doomed  to  the  same  tribunal. 
We  might  add  to  our  company  the  Hindoo,  the  Chinaman, 
the  Tartar,  every  race  and  individual  of  the  heathen  world, 
and  there  will  be  found  the  same  fellowship  of  origin,  suffer- 
ing, and  condemnation.  "  We  have  all  gone  out  of  the  way." 
The  dark  and  awful  truth  in  regard  to  man  is  his  miiversal 
guilt.  "  Every  mouth  shall  be  stopped,  and  the  whole  world 
become  guilty  before  God."  This  is  the  great  fact  that 
Christ  looked  in  the  face.  This  is  the  great  fact  His  church 
must  look  in  the  face. 


72  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

John  3  :  IG.  "  For  God  so  loved  the  woild,  tliat  He  gave 
His  only-begotten  Son,  that  whosoever  believeth  in  Him 
shonld  not  perish,  bnt  have  everlasting  life."  .  .  .  This  text 
first  gives  the  gauge  and  depth  of  God's  love  to  sinful  man. 

We  have  also  the  expression  and  exponent  of  God's  regard 
for  justice  and  law.  .  .  . 

The  text  also  discloses  the  measure  of  the  sinner's  peril, 
the  depth  and  danger  of  human  ruin.  .  .  . 

But  mark,  my  brethren,  the  terms  of  the  text.  "  God  so 
loved  the  world,"  —  not  the  Jew,  not  the  Greek,  not  the 
bond,  not  the  free,  not  the  rich  man,  not  the  beggar  at  his 
gate,  not  the  elect  or  the  non-elect,  not  the  dweller  on  this 
or  that  mountain  or  river  or  ocean,  but  the  world,  —  men 
of  every  cast,  locality,  condition.  "  God  so  loved  the  world, 
that  He  gave  his  only-begotten  Son,  that  whosoever  believeth 
in  Him  should  not  perish."  Be  he  sage  or  savage,  Fejee  or 
Greenlander,  every  tribe  and  individual  of  the  human  family 
are  covered  by  the  provisions  of  the  atoneuient.  Who  will 
say  there  is  a  nation,  clan,  or  inhabitant  of  earth  for  whom 
Christ  hath  not  tasted  death?  Is  there  one  to  whom  the 
"whosoever  ''  does  not  refer? 

The  heathen,  then,  are  embraced  in  the  provisions  of 
Christ's  death.  Nearly  four-fifths  of  the  descendants  of 
Adam  are  to-day  worshipers  of  the  gods  that  can  neither 
hear  nor  save.  Is  there  one  of  these  tribes,  one  individual, 
not  included  in  "the  world"  of  mankind  for  which  Christ 
died?  Again,  if  to  purchase  pardon  and  sanctification  for  the 
heathen,  God  has  given  up  his  only-begotten  Son,  then  the 
heathen  were  in  perishing  need  of  pardon  and  sanctification. 
But,  if  tlie  lieathen  are  not  condemned  sinners  with  the  rest 
of  the  world,  they  have  no  part  in  the  atonement,  they  have 
no  need  of  the  blessings  it  procures.  The  whole  world  does 
not  lie  in  wickedness.  The  command,  "  Go  ye  into  all  the 
world,  and  ])reach  the  gospel  to  every  creature,"  is  a  mistake. 
The  labors  and  sacrifices  of  the  apostles  in  preaching  the 
gospel  to  the  lieathen  were  a  mistake.  If  they  were  not 
sinners  in  common  with  the  rest  of  the  world,  then  the  call 
on  all  men  everywhere  to  repent  was  a  mistake.     How  can 


MISSIONS.  —  BENE  VOLENCE.  73 

the  heathen  repent  if  they  are  not  sinners?  Paul  also 
made  a  mistake  in  writing  to  the  converts  from  heathenism 
at  Ephesus :  "  And  you  hatli  He  quickened  who  were  dead 
in  trespasses  and  sins.  Wherein  in  time  past  ye  walked 
according  to  the  course  of  this  world,  according  to  the  prince 
of  the  power  of  the  air,  the  spirit  that  now  worketh  in  the 
children  of  disobedience.  Among  whom  also,  we  all,"  Jews 
and  heathen,  "  had  our  conversation  in  time  past,  in  the  lusts 
of  our  flesh,  fulfilling  the  desires  of  the  flesh  and  of  the 
mind;  and  were  by  nature  the  children  of  wrath,  even  as 
others.  Remember  that  ye,  being  in  time  past,"  heathen, 
"Gentiles  in  the  flesh,  that  at  that  time  ye  were  without 
Christ,  being  aliens  from  the  commonwealth  of  Israel,  and 
strangers  from  the  covenants  of  promise." 

If  the  heathen  were  not  sinners,  the  prophets  were  mis- 
taken when  they  predicted  that  Christ  should  be  "  a  light  of 
the  Gentiles,  that  He  might  be  for  salvation  to  the  ends 
of  the  earth."  Nor  would  our  Pagan  ancestors  and  their 
Druid  priests  have  been  guilty  while  immolating  human 
victims  upon  their  altars.  If  they  had  no  need  of  the  gospel, 
by  what  means  could  they  pass  from  a  heathen  to  a  Christian 
nation?  How  is  it  that  so  many  hundreds  of  thousands  in 
the  primitive  times,  and  in  the  last  fifty  years  of  modern 
missions,  have  accepted  the  messages  of  a  crucified  Saviour, 
—  have  repented  and  believed  and  rejoiced  in  the  hope  of 
everlasting  life  ?  Were  they  not  mistaken  in  thinking  them- 
selves blameworthy  in  repenting,  and  in  feeling  their  need 
of  Christ?  If  the  heathen  are  not  sinners  with  the  rest  of 
mankind,  it  is  most  evident  they  can  neither  be  saved  by 
grace  nor  condemned  by  justice.  How  will  they  be  disposed 
of? — as  mere  animals,  or  as  spotless  angels?  What,  then, 
mean  the  words  of  Peter,  "  Neither  is  there  salvation  in  any 
other,  for  there  is  none  other  name  under  heaven,  given 
among  men,  whereby  we  must  be  saved  "  ?  .  .  . 


Rom.  10  :  11-15.  .  .  .  According  to  the  reasoning  of  Paul, 
we  have  "  proved  both  Jews  and  Gentiles,  that  they  are  all 


74  REV.   HORACE   EATON,   D.D. 

under  sin "  ;  that  lieathen  and  Christians  are  all  from  one 
degenerate  root ;  tliat  all  have  misimproved  liglit  in  different 
degrees,  and  are  consequently  found  guilt}^  according  to  the 
clearness  of  the  duty  they  have  disregarded.  From  another 
standpoint  the  same  conclusions  have  been  reached.  The 
fact  tliat  God  so  loved  the  whole  world  as  to  give  His  only- 
begotten  Son  to  die  for  all  shows  that  all  have  gone  out  of 
the  way,  and  are  in  perishing  need  of  the  benefits  of  His 
death.  The  sin  of  the  heathen,  though  not  as  deep,  is  as 
real,  as  that  of  the  gospel  sinner.  If  one  has  violated  twelve 
degrees  of  light  and  the  other  but  one,  it  is  still  true  that 
"all  have  sinned,  and  come  short  of  the  glory  of  God." 

While  some  of  my  hearers  did  not  deny  the  truth  of  the 
position,  they  were  led  to  ask  two  pertinent  questions :  — 

1st,  Grant  that  the  heathen  have  light  enough  to  make 
them  sinners.  Have  they  light  enough  to  find  their  upward 
way  to  pardon  and  eternal  life  ?  Do  the  best  they  can,  must 
the  heathen  perish  ? 

My  own  reflections  have  brought  me  to  the  conviction 
that  the  heathen,  though  shut  up  to  faith,  are  not  shut  up 
to  death.  I  am  encouraged  to  think  that  beside  the  light 
shining  from  God's  works  and  providence,  and  the  inward 
convictions  of  conscience,  there  is  also  an  influence  from  the 
atonement  ready  to  clear  and  intensify  this  natural  light, 
ready  to  guide  the  truly  sincere  and  inquiring  heathen,  if 
such  there  be,  in  his  struggles  for  pardon  and  peace :  "  The 
grace  of  God,  tvhich  hath  appeared  unto  all  rnew,  teaching 
us  that,  denying  ungodliness  and  worldly  lusts,  we  should 
live  soberly,  righteously,  and  godly  in  this  present  world." 
The  same  sentiment  is  expressed  in  John,  referring  to  Christ 
as  "the  light  that  lighteth  every  man  that  cometh  into 
the  world."  If  the  heathen  share  the  depraving  influence 
of  Adam's  sin  without  knowing  the  facts  of  his  fall,  I  do  not 
see  why  they  may  not  share  something  of  the  elevating  influ- 
ence of  Christ's  death  without  being  made  acquainted  with 
the  facts  of  His  life  and  crucifixion.  It  is  evident  that  the 
heathen  are  not  in  the  same  hopeless  case  in  which  they 
would  have  been  had  not  Christ  died.     The  Sun  of  righteous- 


MISSIONS.  —  BENE  VOLENCE.  75 

ness  may  cast  a  faint  twilight  upon  regions  over  which  He 
has  not  risen  in  liis  full-orbed  glory.  Christ  is  the  light  of 
the  world.  The  heathen  as  well  as  other  men  are  under 
obligation  to  have  an  honest  and  teachable  spirit,  eager  to 
receive  and  yield  to  the  truth.  May  we  not  admit  that  a 
heathen  may  so  see  God  in  the  heavens,  hear  Him  in  the 
thunder,  and  so  apprehend  Him  in  all  the  changes  of  His 
providence  as  to  be  convinced  of  his  own  dependence  and 
his  sin?  and  may  not  the  Holy  Spirit,  sent  forth  and  purchased 
by  the  cross  of  Christ,  so  sanctify  this  light  of  nature  that 
he  shall  recoil  from  impurity,  cleave  to  virtue,  and  rest  upon 
the  mercy  of  a  Redeemer  whom  he  never  knew?  If  with  a 
penitent,  trusting  spirit  he  wait  upon  the  taper  light  of 
nature,  ready  to  take  an  advanced  step  in  the  way  of  obedi- 
ence, is  not  this  the  substance  of  a  faith  that  would  embrace 
a  Redeemer  as  soon  as  made  known  ?  It  would  seem  from 
the  testimony  of  our  missionaries,  that  they  have  found  a  few 
minds  in  this  attitude,  following  the  light  they  had,  and  ever 
willing  to  obey  new  convictions  of  duty. 

If  these  remarks  are  just,  then  the  heathen  are  only  under 
obligation  sincerely  to  receive  the  light  and  truth  that  is 
revealed  to  them  in  the  book  of  nature,  directed  and  enforced 
by  an  unseen  cross.  This  view  does  not  imply  that  any  one 
is  ever  saved  but  through  the  influence  and  merits  of  the 
atonement,  though,  like  the  experience  of  many  before  Christ 
came,  the  facts  and  nature  of  that  atonement  may  not  have 
been  comprehended. 

The  second  question  is  suggested  by  the  answer  I  have 
given  to  the  first.  If  the  heathen  can  possibly  be  saved  by 
the  light  they  now  have,  rising  out  of  all  their  degradation 
and  filth,  and  scaling  the  walls  of  their  prison,  what  is  the 
need  of  sending  them  missionaries  to  teach  them  the  way  of 
life  more  perfectly? 

The  very  inquiry  reveals  its  own  absurdity.  If  the  dim 
candle  may  possibly  avail  to  guide  the  traveler  across  the 
terrible  gulf  and  save  his  life,  how  much  more  the  starlit 
firmament,  how  much  more  the  full  moon,  the  opening  gates 
of  day,  and  the  meridian  sun !     Men  were  saved  in  the  patri- 


76  REV.   HORACE   EATON,   D.D. 

arclial,  in  the  Mosaic  dispensation ;  but  how  longed  and 
looked-for  the  natal  morn  when  angels  shouted,  "  Glory  to 
God  in  the  highest,  and  on  earth  peace,  good-will  toward 
men  "  ! 

Apply  the  same  reasoning  to  other  interests.  Because  the 
lieathen  can  build  a  hut  in  the  earth,  plow  with  a  stick,  trav- 
erse the  ocean  in  a  rude  canoe,  or  find  all  their  remedies  in 
roots,  shall  Ave  withhold  from  them  our  advanced  knowledge 
of  architecture,  agriculture,  navigation,  and  medicine? 

Thus,  though  they  are  not  shut  up  to  death  by  the  dispen- 
sation of  Heaven,  yet  they  have  practically  shut  themselves 
up  to  death  by  choosing  darkness  rather  than  light,  and 
going  down  to  the  depths  of  sensuality,  and  alienation  from 
God.  They  are  condemned  by  the  same  law  that  condemns 
the  rest  of  the  human  family,  and  they  are  hastening  to  the 
same  judgment  with  ourselves.  Now,  over  against  this  uni- 
versal ruin  is  set  a  universal  remedy.  On  the  one  side  is 
presented  a  universal  demand,  and  on  the  other  a  universal 
supply.  And  the  injunction  of  Christ  joins  with  every 
impulse  of  humanity  and  Christianity,  requiring  us  to  engage 
all  our  powers  to  bring  this  demand  and  supply  together. 

In  rescuing  the  perishing  heathen,  the  divine  order  is 
given  in  the  text:  "  How,  then,  shall  they  call  on  Him  in 
whom  they  have  not  believed?  And  how  shall  they  believe 
in  Him  of  whom  they  have  not  heard?  And  how  shall  they 
hear  without  a  preacher  ?  And  how  shall  they  preach  except 
they  be  sent?  As  it  is  written.  How  beautiful  are  the  feet 
of  them  that  preach  the  gospel  of  peace,  and  bring  glad 
tidinsfs  of  cfood  things  !  " 

Salvation  can  come  only  by  individual  believing  on  Jesus 
Christ.  In  order  to  believe  on  Him,  the  heathen  must  hear 
of  Him.  To  hear  of  Him,  preachers  must  go  from  gospel 
lands.  For  this  the  church  must  educate,  send  forth,  and 
sustain  the  heralds  of  the  cross. 

Christ,  whose  death  has  procured  salvation  for  all  men, 
has  thrown  the  work  of  making  Him  known  upon  the  church 
which  is  His  body.  His  only  visible  representative  on  earth. 
The  church  are  to  obey  His  last  command,  "  Go  ye  into  all 


MISSIONS.  —  BENE  VOLENCE.  7  7 

the  world,  and  preach  the  gospel  to  every  creature."  Salva- 
tion must  come  out  of  Zion.  The  prayers,  alms,  sacriiices 
of  Christ's  disciples,  must  send  the  gospel  among  tlie  nations. 
The  instrumentality  of  the  church  must  roll  back  the  dark- 
ness of  ages,  demolish  every  heathen  altar,  cast  down  every 
idol,  sheathe  every  sword,  break  every  yoke,  dry  up  every 
fountain  of  iniquity,  plant  the  standard  of  the  cross  in  every 
vale  and  along  every  hillside. 

To  this  work  we  should  address  ourselves  gratefullj^  hope- 
fully, joyfully.  .  .  . 


The  Eye  of  Christ  upon  the  Contribution-box.  Mark 
12 :  41.  "  And  Jesus  sat  over  against  the  treasury  and 
beheld  how  the  people  cast  money  into  the  treasury." 

.  .  .  With  His  eye  on  the  contribution-box,  Jesus  com- 
pares the  offerings  of  His  people  with  the  wants  of  the 
world.  .  .  . 

The  searching  eye  of  Jesus  on  the  contribution-box  com- 
pares our  yearly  tribute  with  our  professions.  .  .  . 

He  who  now  watches  the  contribution-box  will  at  last  say, 
"  Give  an  account  of  thy  stewardship."  Let  not  the  fact 
that  we  are  tenants  at  will  grow  dull  upon  our  hearts.  A 
steward  does  Jiot  own  the  property  in  his  hands.  He  is  not 
to  distribute  or  dispose  of  it  at  pleasure.  If  an  agent  use  it 
for  his  own  gratification,  if  he  withhold  from  the  channel 
directed  by  his  master,  the  law  of  trust  and  stewardship  is 
violated.  Did  that  clerk  of  yours  take  the  avails  of  your 
capital  for  himself,  what  is  it  but  purloining  your  substance  ? 
Suppose  you  give  your  tenant  command  to  feed  from  your 
granary  certain  poor  families  among  your  neighbors,  but, 
instead,  he  appropriates  your  wheat  and  provisions  to  his 
own  advantage.     The  injustice  would  be  apparent,  flagrant. 

But  each  one  is  a  steward  of  the  Great  Landholder.  All 
you  have  belongs  to  Him.  Are  you  endowed  with  intellect- 
ual ability  ?  "  God  giveth  wisdom,  and  the  inspiration  of  the 
Almighty  understanding."  Have  you  riches  laid  up  ?  "  The 
silver  is  mine  and  the  gold  is  mine,  saith  the  Lord  of  hosts." 


78  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

Huve  you  a  deed  of  these  broad  acres?  God  has  enriched 
these  fields,  and  '"let  them  out  to  husbandmen,  and  at  His 
coming  He  will  demand  His  own  with  usury."  It  is  plain 
that  we  are  to  resrard  the  owner's  will. 

O 

But  redemption  is  the  great  work,  the  great  enterprise,  of 
His  throne.  To  this  is  subordinated  every  other  interest  in 
His  universe.  For  this  heaven  has  been  emptied  of  its  treas- 
ures. Angels  are  sent  forth  as  ministering  spirits.  All  the 
changes  and  revenue  of  God's  vast  domain  subserve  His  grace 
and  glory  in  the  salvation  of  men.  We,  also,  have  an 
agency.  Bibles  must  be  multiplied,  ministers  must  be  edu- 
cated and  sent  forth,  the  gospel  preached  to  every  crea- 
ture. To  furnish  the  means,  God  has  appointed  an  income 
tax.  .  .  . 

But  you  say,  "  I  am  bound  to  provide  for  my  household, 
their  bodily  comfort,  mental  cultivation,  religious  improve- 
ment, and  future  usefulness."  In  all  this  you  are  obeying 
God  as  a  faithful  steward.  But  does  this  prove  you  are 
allowed  to  retain  and  hoard  your  Lord's  money  for  yourself 
and  family  when  His  cause  is  bleeding  for  help? 

Another  says,  "I  have  lost  the  last  year."  "Well,  my 
brother,  there  is  a  sliding  scale  in  this  business,  —  "  accord- 
ing as  the  Lord  hath  jjrospered."  If  you  have  lost,  you  are 
but  an  agent,  and  the  JNIaster  is  able  to  lose  it.  We  are  to 
occupy  only  what  remains,  and  pay  the  drafts  that  He  may 
send  in. 

But  you  cheerfully  admit  that  you  are  but  a  steward. 
"  Show  me  the  figures,  and  I  will  face  tliem."  The  demand 
on  the  Jewish  Church  was  at  least  one-fifth  of  their  income ; 
one  dollar  in  five,  two  in  ten,  ten  in  fifty,  twenty  in  a 
hundred,  two  hundred  every  thousand.  But  since  Christ 
has  come,  and  the  world  is  thrown  open,  and  the  command 
is  "Go  preach,"  God  has  left  the  amount  to  be  determined 
by  every  individual  conscience.  Prayer,  the  general  teach- 
ings of  the  Bible,  Providence,  w^ill  enable  every  unbiased 
mind  to  strike  the  balance  between  the  wants  of  a  family 
and  the  wants  of  a  perishing  world.  A  sense  of  the  Great 
Taskmaster's  eye  is  necessary  to  prevent  covetousness  from 
perverting  our  gifts. 


MISSIONS.  —  BENE  VOLENCE.  79 

But  another  principle  Jesus  applies  as  we  pass  in  our 
yearly  offerings,  —  "  Whatsoever  ye  would  that  men  should 
do  to  you,  do  ye  even  so  to  them."  Were  we  sunk  in 
heathenism,  for  what  ought  we  to  look  from  those  raised  to 
affluence,  refinement,  civilization,  and  eternal  life  by  the 
gospel?  Exchange  our  Bibles  for  the  Shasters  of  India,  the 
Sabbath  services  for  the  orgies  of  Juggernaut,  our  hopes 
through  Christ  for  the  dark  unknown  that  stretches  out 
before  the  heathen  mind, — in  short,  change  places  with 
idolaters,  and  what  might  we  expect  of  those  more  favored  ? 

Were  one  of  our  steamers,  in  traversing  the  solitary  deep, 
to  fall  in  with  a  hundred  men  in  the  last  stages  of  starvation, 
what"  would  this  law  require  of  them?  Why,  at  once  to 
part  with  their  luxuries  that  they  might  feed  their  starving 
brethren ;  yes,  even  to  share  their  necessary  provisions, 
before  they  suffered  them  to  die  of  famine.  Let  the  same 
principle  be  carried  out  toward  those  perishing  for  the 
bread  of  life  I   .  .  . 

Jesus  looks  upon  the  contribution-box  in  the  light  of  His 
own  sacrifices.  As  He  thinks  of  Gethsemane  and  Calvary,  is 
there  not  in  that  eye  of  compassion  a  beam  of  melting,  sub- 
duing eloquence,  saying,  "Freely  ye  have  received,  freely 
give"?  .  .  .  

The  setting  apart  a  definite  percentage  of  one's  income  for 
the  good  of  others,  as  the  Lord  hath  prospered,  is  a  means  of 
extracting,  killing  selfishness,  that  tap-root  of  all  sin. 

Parchment  long  wound  closely  around  a  small  centre  is 
persistent  in  coiling  together.  You  take  this  tendency  out, 
not  simply  by  uncoiling,  but  by  rolling  the  other  way.  I 
knew  a  man  in  New  England,  who  by  blood  and  nurture  was 
so  held  by  these  strictures,  that,  when  the  grace  of  God 
began  to  expand  his  soul,  you  could  almost  hear  the  cords 
snap.  He  said  that,  when  he  found  the  love  of  money  get- 
ting the  mastery,  he  used  the  great  gospel  club,  visiting 
blow  after  blow,  at  the  rate  of  |500  a  gift.  Thus  he  became 
one  of  the  most  active,  benevolent,  and  prosperous  of  men. 
A  farmer  in  Henniker,  N.H.,  consecrated  an  orchard  to  the 


80  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

cause  of  missions.  The  very  fact  that  he  had  thus  devoted 
it  to  the  Lord  led  him  to  pray  for  good  fruit,  to  graft  and 
and  feed  his  trees.  And  it  was  wonderful  how  many  hun- 
dreds of  dollars  went  into  the  treasury  of  the  Lord  from  that 
orchard.  Tlie  prayer  aud  care  Avhich  made  his  trees  so  fruit- 
ful nourished  in  him  the  spirit  of  benevolence,  that  sanctified 
all  his  other  labors  and  possessions. 

Giving  as  the  Lord  liath  prospered  will  bring  us  off  from 
all  tendencij  to  over-reaching  and  dishonesty.  The  spirit  that 
labors  and  gives  for  others  will  not  fleece  them  of  their  just 
dues.  By  cherishing  a  generous  spirit  toward  all  men,  we 
shall  be  led  to  do  justly  toward  all  men.  Have  we  wronged 
any  one?  Repentance  will  flow  from  the  true  giving  spirit. 
But  perhaps  the  man  whom  we  have  wronged  has  gone 
before  us  to  eternity.  If  what  we  unjustly  possess  cannot 
be  returned  to  the  injured  man  or  family,  we  can  make  it 
over  to  the  Great  Proprietor.  Zaccheus  had  ])een  exacting 
and  rapacious.  When  Jesus  entered  his  heart  and  his  home, 
he  made  restitution  to  those  who  had  gone  beyond  his  reach, 
by  giving  at  once  half  of  his  goods  to  feed  the  poor.  And 
then,  if  there  were  any  living  with  whom  he  had  dealt 
unfairly,  he  restored  to  them  fourfold.  In  this  there  was  no 
compromise  with  evil,  no  buying  indulgences,  but  an  entire 
renunciation  of  all  avarice  and  over-reaching.  .  .  . 

If  we  work,  plan,  and  save  for  the  cause  of  God  as  well  as 
for  ourselves,  then  the  Lord  goes  with  us  as  our  senior  part- 
ner in  the  firm.  His  presence  Avill  restrain  us  from  every 
tliing  false,  selfish,  grasping,  and  enable  us  to  break  with  all 
questionable  schemes,  and  refuse  all  dishonest  gains.  What 
we  give  will  be  a  blessing  to  others.  What  we  retain  will  be 
frauo-ht  with  God's  blessing  on  ourselves.  We  shall  stand 
better  for  both  worlds. 

Conscientious  giving  is  a  practice  which  begets  a  cheerful 
and  happy  spirit.  "Charity  is  twice  blessed."  The  poor 
may  do  Avithout  our  gifts,  aud  be  liappy ;  but  we  cannot  do 
without  the  discipline  of  giving,  and  be  happy.  We  mis- 
take when  we  think  happiness  springs  from  tlie  accretive 
and  selfish  affection.  "It  is  more  blessed  to  give  than  to 
receive."  .  .  . 


MISSIONS.  —  BENE  VOLENCE.  81 

The  law  of  happiness  is  self-forgetfulness.  Continual 
thinking  about  self — what  we  want,  what  we  like,  what 
respect  other  people  ought  to  pay  to  us,  what  other  people 
think  of  us  —  is  the  very  way  to  make  ourselves  miserable.  It 
will  turn  into  a  means  of  unrest  every  blessing  God  sends 
us.  By  giving  alms  as  we  are  able  we  enter  into  the  very 
sympathy,  heart,  and/o^  of  our  Lord, 


From  Report  on  Systematic  Beneficence,  presented  at  Lyons  Presby- 
tery, April,  1882. 

.  .  .  AVhat  specimens  of  giving  among  the  early  churches 
of  Christ !  True  consecration  reaches  to  the  pocket.  Purse- 
strings  and  heart-strings  intwine  and  loosen  together.  If  it 
may  be  said  of  the  renewed  soul,  "Behold  he  prayeth,''  not 
less,  "behold  he  giveth:'  If  the  one  must  be  sincere,  the 
other  must  be  free.  He  who  professes  love  to  Jesus,  and 
yet  says  of  his  money,  "  Hands  off,"  is  acting  over  the  expe- 
rience of  Ananias  and  Sapphira.  His  heart  is  not  right.  He 
who  would  have  a  heart-stock  in  heaven  must  hold  his  bank- 
stocks  subject  to  the  drafts  of  Christ.  He  that  says,  ''  My 
son,  give  me  thine  heart,"  says  also,  "Bring  all  the  tithes 
into  the  storehouse." 

In  this  principle  of  discipleship  is  found  the  only  financial 
basis  for  gospel-work.  With  the  command,  "  Go  ye  into  all 
the  world,"  there  was  no  revenue  from  vested  funds,  rents, 
or  taxation.  Gospel  finance  is  not  from  compulsion,  the  lash 
of  coercion,  but  from  the  law  of  love  to  Christ.  Giving  is 
one  of  the  graces  inwrought  by  the  Spirit.  .  .  .  Giving 
should  be  systematic  and  from  principle.  Impulse  is  a 
shaving  fire.  The  door  of  the  heart,  creaking  on  rusty 
hinges,  may  open  to  a  sudden  and  eloquent  appeal,  only  to 
be  bolted  the  closer  Avhen  the  spasm  is  over.  Zigzag,  hap- 
hazard giving  begets  no  habit,  confers  no  strength.  .  .  .  God 
gives  from  J^rinciple.  Ilis  daily  and  yearly  mercies  come 
around  in  their  season. 

The  demand  for  our  charities  is  constant.  System  is  the 
very  soul  of  the  divine  recipe  given  by  Paul :  "  Now,  con- 


82  REV.   lion  ACE  EATON,   D.D. 

cerning  tlie  collection  of  the  saints,  as  I  have  given  order  to 
the  churches  of  Galatia,  so  do  ye.  Upon  the  first  day  of  the 
week,  let  every  one  of  you  lay  by  him  in  store  as  God  hath 
prospered  him."  .  .  .  For  revenue  to  spread  the  gospel,  God 
could  send  down,  as  He  did  manna,  gold  coined  in  the  mint  of 
heaven.  But  that  would  rob  His  own  people  of  the  discipline 
and  blessedness  of  giving.  .  .  .  The  frequency  of  this  giving 
adds  to  its  efficiency  in  securing  spiritual  benefits  to  the 
giver.  Self-seeking  may  plead,  "The  longer  the  interval^ 
the  greater  the  gift.  Shove  by  present  appeals ;  heap  up  at 
the  end  of  the  year;  leave  a  large  bequest  in  your  will." 
Such  men  forget  that  they  are  cultivating  their  greed  rather 
than  their  benevolence.  In  life  or  death,  avarice  or  heirs 
will  exhibit  but  a  small  showing  for  tlie  cause  of  God.  He 
who  Avaits  to  do  great  good  will  never  do  any.  .  .  . 

But  according  to  this  plan  who  are  to  give  ?  "  Let  evert/ 
one  of  you  lay  by  him  in  store  as  the  Lord  hath  prospered 
him."  If  the  poorest  brother  cannot  bring  a  lamb,  let  him 
bring  a  turtle-dove  or  two  young  pigeons.  If  the  poorest 
sister  cannot  bring  two,  let  her  bring  a  single  mite ;  and  He 
who  sits  over  against  the  treasur}',  and  beholds  how  the}'  cast 
in  will  smile,  and  command  His  benediction  upon  her.  Dear 
to  Christ  are  the  gifts  of  His  humble  i)oor.  They  are  rich 
in  self-denial,  fragrant  in  gratitude.  Who  sliall  deny  the 
obscurest  believer  the  luxury  of  bathing  the  Saviour's  feet 
with  tears  of  thankfulness?  By  such  giving  the  poor  are 
made  rich,  and  the  rich  richer,  and  all  co-operate  in  the 
Master's  cause.  .  .  . 

This  method  of  giving  recommended  by  Paul  is  scriptural, 
simple,  needs  little  machinery,  makes  giving  a  part  of  wor- 
ship, trains  the  young  to  give,  is  frequent,  and  forms  the 
habit  of  giving.  It  secures  the  largest  aggregate,  and  will 
divide  a  support  to  each  of  the  Boards.  Clear,  definite 
instruction,  the  monthly  concert,  the  circulation  of  mission- 
ary intelligence,  and  fervent  prayer  Avill  sustain  and  carry 
through  this  inspired  plan  of  systematic  beneficence. 


MISSIONS.  —  BENE  VOLENCE.  8  3 

.  .  .  As  the  gospel  began  in  the  self-denial  of  a  suffering 
Saviour,  so  it  must  be  extended  by  a  self-denying  churcli. 
The  sufferings  of  Christ  gave  His  cross  its  attraction  and 
power.  So  self-denial  in  His  followers  will  prepare  the  way 
for  the  gospel  they  would  promulgate.  The  drill  goes  before 
and  opens  the  furrows  for  the  seed  it  deposits.  Sacrifice 
softens  and  opens  the  heart  to  the  truth  it  makes  known. 
From  the  smitten  rock  gushed  the  fountain  of  life.  .  .  . 

Behold,  dear  brethren,  the  secret  of  gospel  power.  The 
magnet  is  Jesus  suffering  for  me.  This  self-denying  compas- 
sion for  others,  for  the  lost  and  the  perishing,  is  the  driving 
wheel  of  the  gospel  engine.  "  And  He  said  to  them  all,  If 
any  man  will  come  after  me,  let  him  deny  himself,  and  take 
up  his  cross  daily,  and  follow  me." 

If  self-sacrifice  is  essential  to  self-recovery  and  to  extend- 
ing this  recovery  to  others,  not  less  is  it  necessary  to  insure 
the  glor}^  of  Christ.  As  the  moon  glorifies  the  sun  by  reflect- 
ing its  light  to  cheer  our  dark  nights,  so  the  church  glorifies 
the  Saviour  by  reflecting  His  love  and  grace  upon  the  dark 
places  of  the  earth.  How  can  a  redeemed  church  exalt  a 
suffering  Saviour  but  by  the  same  spirit  of  sacrifice?  Is  not 
our  self-denial  for  others  the  measure  of  our  love  for  Clirist? 
How  can  the  believer  stand  as  the  disciple  of  a  dying  Saviour 
without  this  "  fellowship  of  suffering  "  ?  The  oil  that  con- 
sumes gives  the  light.  The  church  under  the  law  of  sacri- 
fice, believers  on  the  cross,  at  the  stake,  in  the  catacombs, 
manifest,  represent,  honor,  a  suffering  Redeemer.  The  bush, 
all  on  fire  in  the  desert,  was  to  Moses  a  greater  sight,  told 
more  of  Christ,  of  the  future  deliverance  from  Egypt,  than 
ten  thousand  green  bay-trees  spreading  themselves  on  the 
luxuriant  plain.  Martyr  faith,  martj^r  literature,  martyr 
lives,  have  given  the  church  its  victories,  Christ  His  glory, 
and  the  world  its  salvation.     ' 


The  Preaching  of  the  Clouds.  Eccles.  11  :  3.  "  If  the 
clouds  be  full  of  rain,  they  empty  themselves  upon  the 
earth."  .  .  .  Our    cloud-sermon    pleads    against  contracting 


84  REV.   HORACE   EATON,   D.D. 

rather  than  enlarging  our  contributions.  .  .  .  The  verse 
previous  to  our  text  says,  "  Give  a  portion  to  seven,  and  also 
to  eight."  Murk,  it  does  not  say,  "  Give  a  portion  to  seven, 
then  to  six,  then  to  five,"  running  down  and  so  running  out. 
.  .  .  But  benevolence,  self-denial  for  Christ,  will  react  in 
blessings  on  our  own  souls.  When  the  clouds  empty  them- 
selves, the  earth  drinketh  in  the  blessing,  and  with  new  fra- 
grance sends  it  back  again  to  the  heavens.  Did  the  clouds 
absorb  and  retain  the  rising  vapors,  and  not  give  them  back 
in  gentle  rain,  they  would  burst  with  their  own  weight. 
Deluges  would  come  down  to  devastate  and  destroy.  These 
avaricious  clouds  might  be  edged  Avith  gold,  and  lined  with 
silver;  and  yet,  if  they  withheld  their  watery  treasures, 
every  dying  tree  and  plant  would  send  up  their  execrations. 
.  .  .  The  teaching  of  the  rain-cloud,  when  translated,  is 
this,  —  we  are  to  give  freely,  for  we  have  freely  received; 
we  are  to  give  as  a  grateful  offering  to  our  Redeemer;  we 
are  to  give  for  the  health,  happiness,  and  salvation  of  our 
fellow-men  ;  we  are  to  give  as  an  act  of  worship,  and  as 
a  means  of  grace  to  our  own  souls;  we  are  to  give  sys- 
tematically, from  principle,  and  not  leave  the  matter  to 
special  and  moving  appeals,  to  temporary  ability  or  incon- 
venience. .  .  . 

The  following  is  a  Report  on  Home  Missions,  presented  at  the  last 
meeting  of  Presbytery  Avhich  Dr.  Eaton  ever  attended,  held  at  Red  Creek, 
N.Y.,  Sept.  11,  1883,  six  weeks  before  his  death  :  — 

Esther  4  :  14.  "  Thou  art  come  to  the  kingdom  for  such  a 
time  as  this." 

"  Tlicre  is  a  tide  in  the  affairs  of  men, 
Wliicli,  taken  at  the  flood,  leads  on  to  fortune, 
Omitted,  all  the  voyage  of  their  life 
Is  l)i)und  in  shallows  and  in  miseries. 

We  must  take  tlie  current  when  it  serves, 
Or  lose  our  ventures." 

Gideon  and  his  three  hundred  men,  David  as  he  met  Goli- 
ath in  the  X'allcy  of  Ehdi,  Ilezekiah  before  the  army  of 
Sennacherib,  were    just  at   the  moment  when  victory  and 


MISSIONS.  —  BENE  VOLENCE.  85 

defeat  were  balancing.  By  providential  steps,  Esther,  the 
poor  Jewish  maiden,  had  ascended  the  Persian  throne.  The 
design  of  this  elevation  was  revealed  in  the  awful  responsi- 
bility rolled  upon  her.  Her  kindred,  her  nation,  were  in 
imminent  peril.  Their  salvation  hung  upon  her  faith  and 
self-sacrifice.  She  had  "  come  to  the  kingdom  for  such  a 
time  as  this." 

The  American  church,  from  a  condition  of  depression  and 
povert}^  has  been  led  up  to  a  queenly  position  of  honor  and 
power,  to  watch,  sympathize,  and  co-operate  with  her  cruci- 
fied, risen,  and  glorified  Lord.  The  purpose  of  this  elevation 
is  revealed  in  the  exigency,  the  crisis,  that  is  now  upon  her. 
She  has  come  to  the  kingdom  at  a  moment  when  interests 
are  balancing  in  the  scales  of  destiny,  more  weighty  than 
those  ever  committed  to  David,  Jehoshaphat,  or  the  beauti- 
ful orphan-queen. 

The  church  of  this  generation  have  come  to  the  aggressive 
missionary  age,  to  the  time  of  battle,  the  pitched  battle  in 
the  Valley  of  Decision,  the  great  day  of  God  Almighty, 
when  forces  hostile  and  formidable  have  risen  up  from  the 
four  corners  of  the  earth  to  dispute  with  Christ  and  His  peo- 
ple the  possession  of  this  new  world,  especially  as  tliis  is  the 
vantage-ground  and  gateway  to  the  conquest  of  the  whole 
world. 

An  ardent  missionary  friend  of  mine  from  London,  who 
had  been  accustomed  to  plan  and  pray  for  the  prevalence  of 
the  gospel  from  the  Orkneys  to  Land's  End,  and  to  feel  that 
his  own  island  with  Ireland  thrown  in  was  truly  the  Great 
Britain,  recently  visited  the  Pacific,  and  reviewed  the  field  of 
our  own  home  missionary  work.  On  his  return,  his  only 
word  was  "  Great /^^  Every  thing  connected  with  the  evan- 
gelization of  the  West  is  huge,  colossal,  gigantic. 

If  we  look  at  the  territory  we  must  say  "great."  The 
West  is  a  world  of  empires.  Our  missionary  field  beyond 
the  Mississippi,  leaving  out  Alaska,  presents  to  the  sun  a 
greater  area  than  the  twelve  states  of  Europe,  —  excepting 
Russia,  —  these  states  embracing  a  population  of  two  hun- 
dred millions.     Put  down  France  with  her  forty  millions  in 


86  REV.   HORACE   EATON,   D.D. 

Texas,  and  3-011  have  on  all  sides  a  margin  of  forty  miles. 
The  governor  of  Texas  has  a  larger  realm  than  the  emperor 
of  the  French.  Yon  may  pass  from  Eastport,  Me.,  through 
fifty-six  degrees  of  longitnde,  to  San  Francisco,  and  you  are 
not  halfway  to  the  western  border  of  Alaska. 

We  have  read  this  statement  in  regard  to  the  Union 
Pacific  Railroad :  "  From  Chicago  only  to  San  Francisco  it  is 
2300  miles  long.  If  one  end  of  that  road  be  placed  in  imagi- 
nation at  London,  and  be  allowed  to  sweep  around,  like  the 
hand  of  a  clock,  over  the  face  of  Europe,  it  would  reach  to 
the  east  far  beyond  Moscow,  to  the  south-eastward  beyond 
Constantinople  into  Syria,  southward  through  Europe, 
across  the  Mediterranean,  far  into  the  Desert  of  Sahara; 
and,  as  it  comes  round  to  the  Mest,  it  would  reach  two-thirds 
the  way  across  the  Atlantic."  "  Such  a  railroad  is  an  impos- 
sibility in  Europe  :  it  is  a  necessity  in  the  United  States." 

We  are  dazed,  confounded,  at  the  geographical  extent  of 
the  home  missionary  field  of  the  Presbyterian  Cliurch. 

But  the  natural  features  of  this  domain  are  great,  won- 
derful. 

Pile  Ossa  upon  Pclion,  and  Olympus  upon  both,  and  you 
have  but  a  foot-hill  to  the  peaks  of  Washington  Territory 
that  rise  in  snowy,  solitary  grandeur  above  the  approach  of 
man.  Not  less  exciting  are  the  gaping  chasms  that  open 
their  deep  mouths  amid  these  awful  fastnesses.  The  traveler, 
glancing  down  from  the  dizzy  height  into  the  frightful  gorge, 
involuntarily  shudders  at  the  roar  of  the  imprisoned  river  as 
it  echoes  from  the  abyss.  On  the  cliffs,  hundreds  of  feet 
below  him,  he  may  see  the  eyrie  of  the  gray  mountain-eagle, 
and  myriads  of  fish-hawks  flying  above  the  glittering  stream. 
Could  Job  have  ranged  among  these  ragged,  precipitous 
defiles,  and  watched  the  leaping  cascades,  what  words  would 
he  have  left  about  "the  hand  of  God  cutting  channels  in  the 
rock"  and  "overturning  the  mountains  by  the  roots"  !  Did 
the  glens  of  Scotland  inspire  tlie  Wizard  of  the  North  ;  did 
the  harp  of  Moore  vibrate  to  the  lakes  of  Killarney :  what 
lyrics  shall  yet  celebrate  the  canons  of  Colorado,  tlie  trees 
and  the  valley  of  the  Yosemite ! 


MISSIONS.  —  BENE  VOLENCE  87 

But  the  material  resources  of  our  home  missionary  field 
are  great.  In  the  deep  and  glorious  woods  of  Montana  and 
Washington  Territory  there  are  thousands  of  heavy  and 
valuable  forests,  where  no  axe  or  saw  has  ever  uttered  its 
murderous  voice ;  what  colunms  of  pine  and  cedar  to  adorn 
future  palaces,  and  build  the  shipping  of  the  world  ! 

If  you  turn  from  the  height  and  wealth  of  the  forest,  and 
inquire  at  the  shaft  of  the  mine,  you  shall  hear  the  jingle  of 
gold,  silver,  copper,  nickel,  platinum,  iron,  challenging  the 
greedy  coffers  of  the  nations.  From  lifting  your  eyes  from 
the  mine,  you  look  for  the  fruit  of  the  jjIow.  You  will  find 
that  one-half  of  the  wheat,  two-fifths  of  the  corn,  one-half  of 
the  cotton,  are  grown  west  of  the  Father  of  Waters.  How 
will  the  granaries  and  elevators  of  the  great  corn  cities  over- 
flow when  the  Red  River  of  the  north  and  other  fat  valleys 
shall  be  sown  with  the  "  principal  wheat,"  and  wave  with  the 
golden  harvest  I 

But  domains  so  wide,  wonders  so  amazing,  resources  so 
exhaustless,  have  stimulated,  invited,  and  combined  at  the 
West  forces  of  evil  of  gigantic  proportions.  Deep  soil  sends 
up  rank  thistles  as  well  as  rank  wheat.  The  first  caravans 
to  our  new  El  Dorado  were  crowded  with  man)"  of  broken 
fortunes,  bankrupt  chai-acter,  desperate  spirit.  They  rushed 
from  restraint  at  home,  in  the  hope  to  gain  wealth  without 
labor,  to  indulge  in  drunkenness  and  sensuality  Avithout 
shame.  The  next  wave  of  emigrants  were  more  thoughtful 
and  determined  worshipers  of  the  golden  king.  Their  eye, 
heart,  hand,  were  steady  for  the  glittering  prize.  Eternity 
was  left  out  of  sight.  The  six-barreled  revolver  was  their 
Bible.  Atheism,  scepticism,  every  shade  of  religion,  and 
more  of  no  religion,  men  of  commercial  chicanery  and  political 
corruption,  crowded  the  avenues  to  the  western  shore.  In 
addition  to  the  evils  drawn  from  the  older  States,  the  150,000 
Indians  on  the  ground,  the  150,000  Mormons,  imported  igno- 
rance and  vice,  coming  in  like  the  waters  of  the  flood,  now 
make  up  the  volcanic  conglomerate,  fusing,  and  ready  to 
burst  upon  our  home  missionary  field ;  750,000  emigrants  the 
last  year,  370,000  the  first  seven  months  of  this  year ! 


88  REV.   HORACE   EATON,   D.D. 

The  fountains  of  tlie  great  deep  in  Europe  have  been 
broken  up,  and  surges  like  the  waters  of  the  flood  are  pouring 
in  to  fill  the  vacuum  of  our  unoccupied  territory.  Stand  in 
the  North-western  depot  at  Chicago,  or  any  other  sluiceway 
of  foreign  immigration.  Mark  the  strangers  of  every  tongue, 
nation,  hue,  habit,  costume  ;  parents,  youth,  little  ones, 
families,  patriarchal  in  number,  an  exotic,  heterogeneous 
throng,  — "  black  spirits  and  white,  red  spirits  and  gray." 
And  yet  they  are  not  aimless,  "  ignohUe  vidgus.'''  Hope  and 
fire  are  in  their  eye :  purpose,  decision,  cleave  to  their 
bronzed  and  liardy  faces.  They  have  left  one  dear  home. 
The}*  seek  another.  They  carry  with  them  foreign  princi- 
ples, prejudices,  errors,  vices.  Some  are  sheep  under  the 
guidance  of  the  Great  Shepherd ;  some  are  wolves  in  sheep's 
clothing;  some  are  wolves  in  their  own  clothing. 

Left  alone,  is  there  not  danger  that  our  great  new  West 
may  repeat  the  scenes  of  violence  before  the  flood,  and  come 
to  the  reign  of  idleness,  obscenity,  and  sulphur,  witnessed  by 
Sodom  and  Gomorrah,  and  the  cities  about  them? 

But  to  this  dark  and  threatening  cloud  is  there  no  silver 
lining?  Did  not  Gerizim  stand  over  against  Ebal?  Was 
not  the  whole  mount  full  of  chariots  and  horsemen  round 
about  Elisha?  Our  extremity  is  God's  opportunity.  He 
who  appeared  for  Gideon,  David,  Esther,  can  say  to  the 
forces  of  evil,  "  Thus  far,  and  no  farther."  God  has  never 
signed  a  quitclaim  to  an  inch  of  the  soil.  Over  all  this 
broad  land  He  holds  a  warranty  deed.  Satan  and  his  imps 
are  squatters.  To  all  such  He  will  issue  a  writ  of  ejectment. 
Of  all  the  resources  of  this  vast  region,  of  the  treasures  of 
the  sea,  of  the  treasures  of  the  forest,  the  treasures  of  the 
mine,  of  the  pastures  to  be  clothed  with  flocks,  of  the  cattle 
upon  a  thousand  hills,  God  will  say,  "  Tliese  are  mine." 

Against  this  moral  horde  of  Philistines,  the  Lord  has 
brought  out  a  blind  but  mighty  Samson  with  iron  arms. 
Ezekiel  saw  "wheels  strong,  swift,  terrible."  They  were 
"full  of  eyes."  "The  Spirit  was  within  the  Avheels."  Here 
"the  earth  helps  the  woman."  Avarice  may  build  the  rail- 
road, water  the  stock,  filch  from  the  small  owners,  break  the 


MISSIONS.  —  BENE  VOLENCE.  89 

Sabbath ;  but  God  has  His  hand  upon  the  crank.  He  claims 
the  first  bonds.  He  is  the  chief  proprietor,  director.  Van- 
derbilt  and  Jay  Goukl  are  but  His  switch-tenders.  The  Lord 
has  a  great  use  for  His  railroads ;  they  are  the  highway  of  His 
redeemed.  In  this  union,  this  coming-together  of  the  mis- 
sionary and  the  railroad  age,  faith  sees  the  eternal  purpose. 
The  scream  of  the  whistle  will  indeed  scare  the  buffalo  and 
the  prairie-wolf;  but  the  railroad  will  bring  to  the  Indian,  the 
Mormon,  the  Mexican,  the  miner,  the  Bible,  the  teacher,  the 
missionary.  It  stretches  out  its  iron  fingers  into  fertile  val- 
leys and  into  productive  mines.  It  will  unlock  the  riches 
kept  hid  from  the  foundation  of  the  world.  It  will  equalize 
wealth,  intelligence.  The  railroad  and  the  home  missionary 
are  united  in  effort.  They  are  owned  by  the  same  great 
firm.  '-Many  shall  run  to  and  fro,  and  knowledge  shall  be 
increased." 

The  school  is  another  lever  in  the  hands  of  the  home  mis- 
sionary cause,  to  lift  and  roll  off  the  mass  of  ignorance  and 
vice  settling  down  on  our  western  borders.  Education 
begins  with  the  little  ones.  It  is  a  fire  that  kindles  from  the 
bottom.  The  school  imparts  refinement  to  the  texture  and 
hue  of  society.  The  community  rise  with  the  school.  Mil- 
lions of  children  now  divided  into  a  babel  of  tongues  are 
calling  out  for  teachers.  The  Lord  is  the  great  president  of 
these  missionary  schools.  To  sharp,  ingenious,  pious  teach- 
ers who  will  answer  to  these  ten  thousand  calls,  He  promises 
a  rich  bounty.  "  The  Lord  gave  the  word.  Great  were  the 
company  of  them  who  published  it."  The  word  "  company  " 
here,  in  the  original,  is  in  the  feminine  gender.  The  meaning 
is,  a  great  company  of  tvomen  obeyed  the  call.  "  Kings  and 
their  armies  fled  apace."  Daniel  declares  "they  that  be 
wise,"  more  literally,  'Hheij  that  be  teachers,  shall  shine  as 
the  brightness  of  the  firmament  and  as  the  stars  for  ever  and 
ever.     .  .  . 

But  the  jjreacher  as  well  as  the  teacher  must  be  abroad. 
Of  our  11G,325  miles  of  railroad,  more  than  11,000  miles 
were  laid  last  year.  Along  this  line  a  village  is  sprhiging 
up  every  ten  miles.     Now,  to  start  the  Sabbath  worship  and 


90  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

the  Sabbath-school,  to  antagonize  the  saloon  and  every  other 
evil  work,  the  minister  of  Christ  shonld  be  on  the  first  train, 
there  to  stand  the  messenger  of  truth,  the  legate  of  the 
skies.  .  .  . 

The  home  missionary,  backed  by  the  prayers,  and  sustained 
by  the  contributions  of  the  church,  obeys  the  command,  "  Go 
preach."  The  Spirit  puts  him  down  in  a  valley  that  is  full  of 
bones,  and  the  bones  are  very  many  and  very  dry.  It  is  in 
some  mining,  gambling  centre  where  Satan's  seat  is.  But  he 
walks  with  God.  He  speaks  the  truth  as  it  is  in  Jesus.  The 
arrows  strike  between  the  joints  of  the  breastplate.  Under 
the  roughest  jacket  are  stirred  the  memories  of  home,  of  Sab- 
bath, and  sanctuary  scenes.  Conscience  awakes  from  its 
long  slumber.  The  professor,  who  like  Saul  has  been  hid 
among  the  stuff,  thinks  of  his  violated  vows,  and  cries, 
"Restore  unto  me  the  joys  of  thy  salvation."  The  ambas- 
sador of  Christ  proves  a  magnet  around  which  the  better 
elements  cleave.  The  truth  begins  to  radiate,  the  Sabbath  to 
dawn ;  the  Spirit  comes ;  souls  are  saved ;  a  church  is  gath- 
ered and  founded  on  the  rock.  Schools  spring  up.  Holy 
influences  penetrate  and  go  hand  in  hand  with  business 
enterprises.     Sodom  is  redeen^.ed. 

If,  then,  the  territory,  the  natural  wonders,  the  resources 
of  the  home  missionary  field,  are  so  vast,  if  the  combinations 
of  the  enemy  are  so  strong,  if  the  influences  of  the  school 
and  the  pulpit  are  so  needful,  shall  we  not  come  up  to  the 
help  of  the  Lord  with  a  self-denial  more  depleting,  with  an 
overcoming  faith  like  that  of  Joshua,  before  which  Jericho 
fell  down  flat,  before  which  the  sun  stood  still  on  Gibeon, 
and  the  moon  in  the  Valley  of  Aijalon? 

Have  we  not  "  come  to  the  kingdom  for  such  a  time  as 
this?" 

"  The  crisis  presses  on  us,  —  face  to  face  with  us  it  stands, 

With  solemn  lips  of  question  like  the  Sphinx  in  Egypt's  sands; 

This  day  we  fashion  Destiny,  our  web  of  Fate  we  spin; 

This  day,  for  all  hereafter,  choose  we  holiness  or  sin. 

Even  now  from  starry  Gerizim,  or  Ebal's  cloudy  crown. 

We  call  the  dews  of  blessing,  or  the  bolts  of  cursing  down." 


CHAPTER  VI. 

SECOND  DECADE   IN   PALMYRA. 
1859-1869. 

THE  WAR.  —  DAYS  OF  AFFLICTION.  —  LIFE,  A  SCHOOL.  — 
LITERARY  LABORS.  —  LECTURE  ON  TREES.  —  ARTICLES 
FOR   THE   PRESS. 

Mr.  Eaton  had  been  brought  up  by  his  mother  in  the  doctrines  of  the 
old  American  Peace  Society,  of  which  Dr.  Noah  Worcester  was  the 
founder  and  president.  But  when  the  news  came  in  from  Sumter,  he 
did  not  long  debate.  In  a  sermon  preached  to  the  Palmyra  volunteers, 
June  1,  1861,  on  the  text,  "Behold,  therefore,  the  goodness  and  the 
severity  of  God,"  he  stated  the  considerations  that  led  him  to  say,  toward 
the  close  of  his  discourse,  — 

All  peaceful  negotiations  have  failed.  There  is  no  alter- 
native. We  must  accept  the  arbitrame7it  of  arms.  But  "  he 
is  twice  armed  who  hath  his  quarrel  just."  We  fight  to  save 
a  government  wrought  out  by  successive  generations  of 
martyrs,  baptized  in  the  blood  of  Revolutionary  heroes.  We 
fight  for  the  star-spangled  banner  that  fans  tlie  spirit  of 
freedom,  wherever  unfurled.  We  fight,  not  for  revenge  or 
conquest,  but  to  sustain  the  best  government  in  the  world. 
We  need  harbor  no  hatred  against  those  men  who  would 
break  up  this  Union.  Washington  dropped  tears  as  he  signed 
the  death-warrant  of  the  guilty,  thus  illustrating  the  doc- 
trine of  the  text,  "Behold,  therefore,  the  goodness  and 
severity  of  God."  We  have  a  single  object.  We  would 
save  the  country.  We  cannot  draw  a  hne  of  separation 
between  the  Lakes  and  the  Gulf.  We  cannot  divide  the  Mis- 
sissippi. We  cannot  divide  the  Hving  child.  The  nation's 
life  is  worth  more  than  any  individual  life,  and,  did  not  age 
forbid,  I  would  be  with  you  on  the  tented  field  and  in  the 
deadly  strife. 


92  REV.   HORACE   EATON,   D.D. 

He  thus  addressed  another  company  leaving  for  "  the  front " :  — 
I  have  beard  the  drum  and  the  fife  since  I  Avas  a  boy,  but 
not  with  such  feelings  of  solemnity  as  to-day.  I  have  looked 
all  my  life  on  that  Hag,  but  it  never  appeared  to  me  so  noble 
as  now ;  its  stars  so  like  those  that  once  "  sang  together," 
and  its  stripes  so  like  the  "  breaking  of  the  morning."  I 
have  regarded  war  with  dread,  but  if  I  understand  the  gospel, 
or  the  sacrifice  of  Calvary,  it  is  founded  on  government. 
Government  is  an  institution  of  God  as  really  as  tlie  church. 
.  .  .  The  invincible  logic  of  Paul  defends  us.  The  govern- 
ment must  be  sustained,  even  if  by  the  sword. 

Volunteers,  you  do  not  go  forth  as  mercenaries,  but  as 
an  army  of  the  Constitution  and  the  Union.  You  differ  from 
those  wlio  fight  for  destruction.  You  figlit  for  laAv :  you 
will  obey  law.  You  fight  for  truth :  you  will  give  an  exam- 
ple of  truth.  .  .  .  Go,  regard  your  health,  your  virtue,  your 
Testaments  !      God  (jo  ivitJi  you. 

We  find  among  his  sermons  one  delivered  May  G,  18C1,  from  the  text, 
"  Be  not  afraid  or  dismayed  by  reason  of  this  great  multitude,  for  the 
battle  is  not  yours,  but  (lod's  ";  another,  on  "The  I>uty  of  the  Church 
to  Soldiers."  He  followed  the  111th  Regiment  to  Auburn,  and  preached 
to  them  on  the  Sabbath  (Aug.  17,  1862)  previous  to  their  leaving  for  the 
seat  of  war.  Many  a  strong  man  just  off  for  the  camp  came  to  his 
house,  knelt  with  him  a  few  moments  alone  in  prayer,  took  his  hand, 
and,  bidding  him  farewell,  said  with  tears,  "  Don't  forget  to  pray  for  me, 
Mr.  Eaton." 

With  the  other  clergymen  and  citizens  of  the  town,  he  exerted  himself 
to  tlie  utmost  to  furnish  supplies  for  the  sick  and  wounded  through  the 
Sanitarj'  and  Christian  Commissions. 

He  saw  that  the  soldiers  were  provided  with  Testaments,  in  which 
were  written  the  name  and  an  appropriate  text.  He  gave  to  many  on 
their  return  a  leaflet,  "Mustered  out, — now  look  out!"  Several  sent 
their  money  to  his  care.  For  one  entire  year  he  helped  to  sustain  a  daily 
prayer-meeting  for  our  imperiled  country.  Much  of  the  time  it  was  held 
in  his  study.  We  find  also  sermons  that  he  preached  upon  those  gloomy 
days  appointed  by  President  Lincoln  as  seasons  of  fasting,  when  the  wail 
of  the  people  went  up,  "Give  us  Joshuas  for  officers,"  "Send  us  victory"; 
others  delivered  at  the  funeral  of  soldiers  buried  in  our  own  cemetery ; 
still  others  at  memorial  sen-ices  held  for  those  wlio  sleep  in  unl-noum 
graves.     Some   of   these  perished   at   Libby,   Andersouville,   and    Salis- 


THE    WAR.  93 

bury :  "  They  that  be  slain  with  the  sword  are  better  than  they  that  be 
slain  with  hunger ;  for  these  pine  away,  stricken  through  for  want  of  the 
fruits  of  the  field." 

July  4,  1876,  he  writes  :  — 

Of  the  boj^s  in  bine,  net  less  than  ninety  names  are 
engraved  on  the  two  tablets  of  stone  in  our  public  hall,  and 
still  deeper  in  our  hearts.  They  offered  themselves  a  free, 
a  willing  sacrifice  for  the  dear  old  flag.  And  while  we  live 
we  will  strew  their  graves  with  flowers,  and  with  loyal  affec- 
tion pledge  ourselves  to  sustain  the  liberties  they  died  to 
save. 

Mr.  Eaton's  "  Triumph  in  Clirist "  was  not  obtained  Avithout  sojourn- 
ing now  and  then  in  "  deserts,  and  sleeping  on  stone  pillows."  The  Lord 
of  the  way  prepared  him  by  these  for  "  an  open  heaven  and  an  angel- 
crowded  ladder." 

A  terrible  stroke  was  the  death  of  his  second  son,  John  Spaulding 
Eaton,  aged  nineteen  years.  It  occurred  July  4,  1868.  The  following  is 
from  an  obituary  notice,  written  by  his  father  :  — 

The  young  tree  is  often  taken  from  the  nursery  to  bloom 
and  bear  in  another  clime.  Youth,  promise,  and  worth  are 
pluched  away  from  their  shaded  retreats  while  little  known. 
This  was  true  of  the  departed  one  just  mentioned.  The  last 
two  years  he  was  shut  in  by  sickness ;  he  was  coy  and  studi- 
ous in  health.  In  the  busy  world  he  will  not  be  missed. 
The  face  of  nature  will  bloom  as  fair,  and  the  tide  of  life 
will  flow  on,  as  though  he  had  never  lived.  But  the  savor  of 
his  memory  will  still  linger  in  the  liome,  the  scliool,  the 
church.  His  home  will  long  be  the  sweeter  for  the  memorials 
that  remind  us  of  his  young  and  ingenuous  life.  It  is  pleas- 
ant to  recall  the  good  nature  and  ingenuity  that  mingled  in 
the  drollery  and  fun  of  his  childish  sports.  His  little  sleds, 
wagons,  and  guns  still  show  the  guileless  adroitness  that 
endeared  him  to  his  friends  and  associates.  As  childhood 
merged  into  youth,  the  earlier  rays  matured  into  a  purer  and 
richer  light.  His  influence  will  ever  be  fragrant  in  the  ch-cle 
of  his  bereaved  kindred.  His  school  life  has  left  the  same 
deep  and  distinct  features  upon  the  minds  of  his  associates 
in  study.     He  could  not  take  a  superficial  view  of  any  thing. 


94  REV.    HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

lie  souci'ht  clear  distinctions  and  intellio-ent  convictions  of 
truth.  His  studies  were  marked  with  accuracy.  The  prin- 
ciples of  grammar  and  mathematics  were  wiitten  in  his  mind 
with  the  point  of  a  diamond.  Science  with  him  Avas  not  so 
much  a  matter  of  memory  as  of  insight  and  mental  assimila- 
tion. Hence  whatever  he  mastered  was  ever  at  his  com- 
mand. Not  the  most  subtle  shade  of  a  Greek  particle  or 
verb,  not  a  remark  of  a  revered  teacher,  not  a  passage  in  the 
text-books  he  studied,  but  was  ready  at  his  call.  Dr.  Taylor, 
principal  of  Phillips  Academy,  Andover,  said  of  him  that  he 
"  could  not  recollect  a  look,  a  word,  or  an  action  which  he 
could  have  Avished  otherwise."  Ilis  mental  habits  gave  type 
to  his  Christian  experience.  He  will  be  remembered  in  the 
church.  Deep  conviction  of  sin  prepared  the  way  for  humble 
dependence  upon  Christ,  and  for  an  entire  consecration  to 
EPis  sfervice.  Impressed  with  the  moral  wastes  of  the  world, 
and  his  own  obligations  to  his  Redeemer,  without  any  human 
solicitation  he  cheerfully  accepted  the  gospel  ministry  as  his 
life-work.  With  this  aim  he  was  pressing  on  in  full  tide  of 
success,  when  insidious  disease  marked  him  for  its  victim. 
The  conflict  was  trying.  It  was  hard  to  leave  the  noble 
band  of  youth  with  whom  he  was  associated.  He  appreci- 
ated all  that  a  liberal  education  could  promise.  He  tliirsted 
to  drink  of  these  crystal  fountains.  The  disappointment 
crossed  every  natural  and  gracious  aspiration.  The  bravest 
soldier  never  yielded  from  the  ranks  in  which  he  was  keep- 
ing step  to  certain  victory,  with  a  severer  reluctance.  The 
love  of  his  fellows,  the  love  of  knowledge,  the  love  of  achieve- 
ment, and  the  love  of  Christ,  were  the  secret  of  his  love  of 
life.  It  was  like  the  desire  of  Moses  to  carry  out  his  great 
work,  "to  go  over  and  see  that  goodly  mountain  and  Leba- 
non." But  as  disease  progressed,  his  grasp  of  life  seemed  to 
let  go,  and  he  could  say,  "  I  thank  God  that  my  times  are 
in  His  hands."  "He  will  sustain  mc  in  whatever  he  has  for 
me  to  pass  through."  "  He  has  something  for  me  to  do  in 
another  world."  "  Jesus  is  with  me ;  I  have  no  doubts." 
He  had  not  strength  to  return  the  thanks  he  felt.  In  grati- 
tude to  God,  he  gave  himself  up  a  living  sacrifice.     Every 


LIFE  A    SCHOOL.  95 

solicitude  and  service,  every  prayer  offered  in  Iiis  behalf,  the 
first  rose  of  summer,  the  first  strawberries,  cherries,  every 
dainty  sent  him,  thrilled  his  heart.  And  so  numerous  were 
the  kindnesses  of  this  people,  irrespective  of  denomination, 
that  not  only  w^as  life  given  to  his  days,  but  days  to  liis  life. 
His  word  was,  "  I  don't  see  why  they  are  all  so  kind  to  me. 
It  must  be  they  do  it  for  Christ's  sake." 

And  here  his  parents  and  the  family  would  gratefully 
acknowledge  that,  amid  the  processions  and  jubilant  displays 
of  the  Fourth  of  July,  the  day  in  which  his  discharge  came, 
his  couch  was  passed  in  silence  and  respect.  Nor  will  they 
ever  forget  the  efficient  and  delicate  offices  that  softened  the 
grief  of  tlie  funeral  and  the  grave. 

Three  years  after,  he  thus  writes  to  his  sister :  — 

July  4,  1871. 

Dear  Sister  Lucketia,  —  It  is  just  three  years  to  a 
moment  since  my  dear  John  left  me.  How  quick  he  went 
beyond  my  call !  How  that  last  word  and  look  come  back  to 
me  !  He  was  my  companion,  —  more  than  my  equal.  I  had 
not  a  book,  a  principle,  or  thought,  that  I  had  not  devoted  to 
him.  How  grateful  to  have  heard  him  preach  the  same 
gospel  I  love !  God  knows  why  He  took  him  away.  To  me 
it  is  mysterious.  I  bow,  not  because  I  7nust,  but  because 
God  is  right. 

Three  years  in  heaven  !  He  needs  none  of  my  books  or 
thoughts.  He  knows  more  than  I  do.  He  is  happier  than 
I  am.  I  would  not  bring  him  back.  But  what  is  his  con- 
sciousness? what  his  employment?  Does  he  ever  think  of 
me?  Does  he  ever  hover  around  my  sorrowful  path?  "I 
shall  go  to  him.     He  will  not  return  to  me." 

On  the  first  Sabbath  of  the  year  1808,  he  preached  the  follo^Ying 
sermon :  — 

Life  a  School.  Ps.  71  :  17.  "  O  God,  thou  hast  taught 
me  from  my  youth."  Is  it  not  at  least  a  reasonable  fancy 
that  loyal  spirits  of  the  other  world  may  find  delight  and 
improvement  in  flights  of  exploration  amid  the  vastness  and 
wonders  of  creation?      Suppose  an  angel  of  superior  rank, 


96  REV.   HORACE   EATON,   D.D. 

and  jet  a  stranger  to  the  history  of  man,  should  find  himself 
crossing  the  disk  of  our  planet.  He  balances  on  his  wings, 
and  looks  down  among  the  children  of  men.  It  is  one  of 
the  gala  days  of  the  nation.  He  naturally  concludes  that 
this  Avorld  is  given  up  to  pleasure  and  hilarity.  Yet,  not 
satisfied,  he  resolves  to  make  another  investigation.  He 
moves  on  to  a  different  meridian  of  our  globe.  Here  his  eye 
falls  upon  a  scene  of  toil,  burdens,  cares.  He  noAV  concludes 
that  the  earth  is  a  workshop,  that  all  things  are  full  of 
labor,  and  that  man  is  an  abject  and  oppressed  slave. 

But,  since  this  second  view  is  so  unlike  the  first,  he  deter- 
mines to  make  one  more  examination.  This  reveals  to  him 
a  mingled  scene, —  toil  and  joy  and  sorrow.  Elegant  man- 
sions seem  surrounded  with  prisons  and  workshops  and  hos- 
pitals. His  convictions  are  mixed  and  confused.  His  heart 
works  with  unearthly  anxiety.  He  cries,  "What  are  these 
regions  n})on  wh.ich  I  have  alighted?  What  are  the  principles 
and  purposes  which  these  contradictory  assemblies  reveal?" 

Just  then,  the  angel  having  the  everlasting  gospel,  being 
caused  to  fly  swiftly,  touched  him,  and  informed  him.  His 
message  was,  that,  although  there  were  scenes  of  mirth  and 
toil  and  mourning,  yet  this  earth  was  neither  a  playground, 
a  workshop,  nor  a  hospital,  but  that  these  were  all  combined 
in  t^ie  one  idea  of  trial,  probation :  in  short,  this  world  was 
a  moral  gymnasium,  a  school,  a  place  of  discipline  prepara- 
tory to  a  more  glorious  life,  — God's  arrangement  for  fitting 
sinful  souls  to  graduate  with  honor  to  wider  spheres  and 
hiffher  activities.  The  cheer  and  blithesomeness  he  first 
witnessed  were  to  relieve  the  toil  of  his  second  observation  ; 
and  the  toil  was  to  chasten  the  gayety  of  the  first.  One  was 
set  over  against  the  other  to  balance  the  different  powers  and 
passions,  and  to  develop  a  character  even,  symmetrical,  hoi}'. 
This  view  of  man  is  the  onlj'-  one  that  solves  the  great  prob- 
lem of  human  existence.  Brethren,  it  is  the  fust  Sabbath  of 
the  year.  Life  a  school  will  not  be  inappropriate  for  this 
hour's  meditation.  "  O  God,  thou  hast  taught  me  from  my 
youth." 

And  here  it  is  obvious  that  a  wise  teacher  will  show  his 


LIFE   A    SCHOOL.  97 

skill  in  the  adaptations  and  arrangements  of  Ms  schoolroom. 
Eveiy  temple  erected  to  ecluccation  should  be  capacious, 
orderly,  quiet,  I  have  also  noticed  ingenious  devices  on  the 
walls,  —  maps  illustrating  geography  and  astronomy.  Moral 
and  religious  sentiments  are  made  to  speak  from  different 
tablets.  Lofty  and  capacious  is  this  temple  where  man  is 
placed,  fitted  to  awe,  stimulate,  and  strengthen  every  power. 
What  order,  what  stillness,  mark  all  God's  movements !  For 
maps  we  have  the  veritable  landscape  with  mountain  and 
valley,  woodland  and  lawn.  For  the  orrery,  or  the  represen- 
tations of  the  planets  and  the  constellations,  we  have  only  to 
look  up  to  the  dome,  and  we  have  the  shining  and  wheeling 
orbs  themselves. 

Equally  attractive  are  the  teachers  of  this  great  union- 
school.  Dame  Nature  is  the  first  preceptress.  Her  winning 
voice  and  gentle  breath  are  first  to  attract  the  eye,  and 
charm  the  ear,  of  infancy.  Nature  is  an  object-teacher. 
Before  human  diction  can  be  understood,  she  holds  out  to  the 
child  the  golden  sun,  the  silver  moon,  the  twinkling  stars, 
the  clear  sk3%  the  rain-cloud,  the  sweet  shower,  the  light- 
ning's flash,  the  rainbow  spanning  the  eastern  horizon.  All 
that  has  life  awakens  ideas  of  beauty,  wonder,  and  love  in 
the  embryo  soul.  Nature  conducts  the  infant-chiss  in  the 
great  school  of  immortality.  Hers  is  the  primary  depart- 
ment, and  of  primary  importance.  It  was  a  wise  saying  of 
John  Locke,  that  he  had  acquired  more  ideas  at  five  years 
old  than  in  all  the  rest  of  his  life.  Do  you  find  trouble  in 
securing  a  teacher  for  the  infant  mind?  Set  your  child 
down  in  i\\e  lap  of  Nature,  there  to  play  with  flowers,  to  look 
up  to  the  trees,  to  the  mountain,  to  the  stars.  Let  the  ear 
hear  the  songs  of  the  grove,  the  soft  breathings  of  spring, 
the  sighing  of  autumn,  and  the  hoarse  blast  of  winter,  and 
you  have  furnished  the  element  and  aliment  of  that  young 
soul's  growth.  Nature  is  the  child's  counterpart.  It  speaks 
it  into  life  and  joy. 

"  All  Nature's  objects  have 
An  echo  in  the  heart.     This  flesh  doth  thrill, 
And  has  connection  by  some  unseen  chain 


98  REV.   HORACE  EATON,  D.D. 

With  its  original  source  .ind  kindred  substance. 
Tlie  mighty  forest,  tlie  proud  tides  of  ocean, 
Slvy-dcaring  hills,  and  in  tlie  vast  of  air 
The  starry  constellations,  and  the  sun, 
Parent  of  life  exhaustless,  —  these  maintain 
"With  the  mysterious  mind  and  breathing  mould 
A  co-existence  and  community." 

Experience  was  a  "vvell-known  teacher  in  the  school  of  time. 
The  young,  the  gay,  the  refractory,  called  her  severe  and 
forbidding.  True,  her  lessons  were  often  gained  at  fearful 
cost ;  but  they  were  practical  and  safe.  She  brought  the 
wayward  to  their  senses  with  pungent  inflictions.  But  she 
never  ceased  to  win  upon  older  scholars.  The  disobedient 
and  restive,  who,  like  Rehoboam,  despised  the  counsel  of 
the  aged,  at  last  learned  Avith  sorrow  that  "  days  should 
speak,  and  the  multitude  of  years  should  teacli  wisdom." 
She  was  indeed  the  great  teacher  of  man.  The  tomes  of 
learning  in  all  the  arts  and  professions  were  but  her  precepts 
recorded.  As  the  world  grows  older,  her  words  become 
more  weighty,  yet  often  less  heeded.  How  strange,  that  the 
wreck  of  others  should  not  convince  the  coming  voyager  of 
the  hidden  reef!  How  often  are  the  failures  of  the  past  like 
a  light  on  the  stern  of  a  ship,  casting  a  lurid  glare  upon  the 
foaming  Avaters  behind,  instead  of  a  light  at  the  prow  to  guide 
the  vessel  in  her  future  course !  But  this  Avas  clear.  Experi- 
ence by  her  plain  dealing  and  unerring  rule,  commanded  the 
fear  of  all,  and  the  hearty  obedience  and  respect  of  every 
successful  candidate  for  eternity. 

In  introducing  another  teacher,  it  should  be  remembered 
that  this  seminary  for  innnortality  Avas  a  graded  school. 
Though  the  departments  and  instructors  harmonized  and 
co-operated,  yet  one  was  preliminary,  and  preparatory  to  the 
other.  Beside  coming  under  the  tuition  of  Nature  and 
Experience,  all  must  i)ass  through  the  department  presided 
over  by  that  divine  disciplinarian,  Providence.  If  Nature 
drew  her  instructions  from  Avhat  seemed  present,  and  Ex[)eri- 
•nce  from  the  past,  Providence  chose  his  field  of  study  from 
"   '       .     He  Avas  eminent  for  his  discipline,  and,  although 


LIFE  A    SCHOOL.  99 

he  moved  all  unseen  and  unheard  among  his  pupils,  yet  he 
discriminated  just  the  stage  of  knowledge,  the  tendency  and 
temperament  of  each  scholar,  and  with  infinite  skill  adapt- 
ed the  lesson  to  the  individual  condition.  One  thino-  was 
peculiar  to  this  instructor,  —  his  department  Avas  divided  into 
two  rooms.  And  though  there  was  a  strong  separating 
Avail,  yet  ample  doors  permitted  a  ready  passage  from  one 
room  to  another.  Between  these  apartments  there  Avas  a 
striking  contrast.  One  Avas  on  the  south  side,  lined  Avith 
mirrors,  floored  Avith  ornamental  tapestr}^,  sumptuous  AA-ith 
divans,  vocal  with  the  continued  swell  of  music.  The  Avin- 
doAVS  looked  out  on  parks  and  gardens  where  birds  sang 
amid  lofty  branches,  "  where  floAvers  ever  blossomed,  and 
beams  ever  shone."  The  other  room  Avas  forbidding.  The 
floor  was  bare,  the  furniture  rough,  the  seats  hard.  It  was 
on  the  north  side :  the  hail  often  beat  terribly  against  the 
wall.  No  windoAvs  opened  to  inviting  landscapes.  All  the 
light  came  doAA'n  from  above.  Lessons  of  great  difficulty 
Avere  here  to  be  Avorked  out  on  the  blackboard.  The  pupils 
were  obliged  to  bend  all  their  faculties  to  the  task  before 
them,  and  often  tears  fell  on  the  pages  they  Avere  studying. 
NoAV,  it  Avas  not  strange  that  the  bright  hall  of  Prosperity 
should  be  thronged.  But,  notwitlistanding  the  pleasing 
aspect,  the  eyes  and  minds  of  many  of  the  pupils  Avere 
diverted  from  the  depth  and  thoroughness  sought.  While 
Providence  Avas  a  teacher  that  loved  the  pleasure  and  smiles 
of  his  pupils,  he  Avas  firm  to  their  higher  interests.  He  ever 
had  his  eye  upon  their  graduation-day.  The  chief  aim  of  the 
school  was  not  present  enjoyment,  but  advancement.  This 
sturdy  disciplinarian  sometimes  found  it  necessary  to  trans- 
fer his  pupils  from  the  sunny  apartment  of  Prosi)erity  to  the 
bleak  and  forbidding  condition  of  Adversity.  The  arrange- 
ment Avas  profitable  for  revicAV  and  deeper  thought.  Indeed, 
it  Avas  plain  that  the  north  side  made  the  best  scholars. 
Their  prospects  for  honors  and  degrees  were  decidedly  more 
promising.  "Blessed  is  the  man  Avhom  thou  chastenest,  and 
teachest  him  out  of  thy  laAV."  Many  of  the  children  of  For- 
tune   inveighed   against    the    change.      Some    bribed,    some 


100  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

threatened,  some  withstood.  But  when  the  stern  tutor  saw 
there  was  no  improvement,  that  through  indifference,  pride, 
or  passion,  there  was  neither  gratitude  to  God  nor  generosity 
to  men,  he  was  inexorable,  and  the  event  frequently  vindi- 
cated the  decision.  Without  respect  to  persons,  the  son  of  the 
aflluent  was  p,ut  to  the  same  tasks,  on  the  same  seats,  under 
the  same  skylight,  with  the  child  of  want.  The  lesson  was 
often  salutary.  Many  a  one  has  lost  his  wealth,  laid  away 
his  friends  in  the  grave,  to  save  his  soul.  What  scholars 
have  been  made  under  the  rod  of  Adversity !  A  smooth  sea 
never  turned  out  a  brave  sailor.  Storms  rouse  the  faculties, 
the  invention,  the  patience,  the  fortitude.  Disappointments, 
bereavements,  take  out  of  us  our  self-will,  self-conceit,  super- 
ficiality, complaints,  and  make  us  modest,  submissive,  grate- 
ful. .  .  .  Good  scholars  will  give  themselves  up  to  welcome, 
and  obey  the  discipline  of  so  wise  and  far-reaching  instruc- 
tion. 

"  lie  who  ne'er  eats  liis  bread  with  sighs, 

Or  througli  the  livelong  night 
Ke'cr  weeping  on  his  pillow  lies, 

Knows  not  divine  delight. 
The  good  are  better  made  by  ill, 
As  odors  crushed  are  sweeter  still." 

But  Christ  is  "  the  Great  Teacher  come  from  God."  He 
spoke  with  simplicity,  authorit}*,  and  power.  He  opened 
vistas  of  knowledge  never  before  explored.  Jesus  Christ  is 
the  director,  proprietor,  president,  of  this  great  university  of 
time.  All  other  teachers  are  subordinate.  "Never  man 
spake  like  this  man."  While  He  calls  in  all  the  ancient  coin, 
all  the  worn  impressions  derived  from  Nature,  Experience, 
and  Providence,  He  carries  up  the  truth  to  its  climax,  culmi- 
nation, and  glor}'.  The  truth  as  it  is  in  Jesus  shines  in  its 
])urity  and  perfect  proportions.  The  teachings  of  Jesus  are 
simple,  yet  profound.  He  is  the  radiating  centre  of  infinite 
love,  justice,  and  holiness.  I  have  sometimes  seen  the  clouds 
divide,  and  open  a  crevasse  into  the  deep  cerulean  of  heaven. 
Christ,  beyond  all  others,  has  dis])ersed  the  darkness,  and 
brought  "life  and  iuimurtality  to  light."    He  is  "  the  resurrec- 


LIFE  A    SCHOOL.  101 

tion  and  the  life."  In  His  life  and  death  He  has  solved  the 
great  problem  how  "  God  can  be  just,  and  yet  justify  him  that 
believeth."  "  He  took  the  book,  and  opened  the  seven  seals 
thereof." 

The  Holy  Spirit  has  an  infinitely  glorious  part  in  conduct- 
ing the  education  of  souls  for  heaven.  The  text-books 
studied  are  His  work.  "  Holy  men  of  old  spoke  as  tliey  were 
moved  by  the  Holy  Ghost."  He  is  "  the  Spirit  of  wisdom 
and  understanding."  He  opens  the  eyes  and  heart.  He 
leads  into  all  truth.  "  He  shall  teach  you  all  things,  and 
bring  all  things  to  your  remembrance." 

But  this  school  of  time  has  its  terms  of  study  and  examina- 
tions. Distinguished  universities  are  close  and  impartial  in 
marking  the  conduct  and  progress  of  every  student.  If  he 
fall  behind,  he  is  admonished,  conditioned.  If  he  do  not 
come  up  to  the  standard,  he  is  dropped.  If  he  quicken  his 
pace,  he  may  redeem  the  time,  and  recover  his  standing.  The 
style  of  his  dress,  the  beauty  of  his  library,  the  respectability 
of  his  friends,  are  all  left  out  of  tlie  account.  The  question 
is  personal.  Does  the  improvement  of  the  student  promise 
an  honorable  graduation?  If  not,  he  is  ignobly  dismissed. 
There  are  terms,  seasons  of  trial,  of  examination,  in  the  school 
for  eternity.  How  terrible  to  fail  I  What  advantages,  what 
encouragements  to  success!  This  very  temple  of  God  in 
which  we  study  is  hung  about  with  symbols  .of  truth  fitted 
to  develop  and  educate  the  soul.  How  inspiring  the  voices 
of  Nature  !  How  replete  with  wisdom  the  warnings  of  Expe- 
rience !  What  adaptation  in  the  discipline  of  Providence! 
How  full  of  light,  love,  and  sympathy,  the  teachings  of  Jesus! 
How  ready  is  the  Holy  Spirit  to  "take  of  the  things  of 
Christ,  and  show  them  to  the  soul  "  !  With  such  provisions 
for  our  education,  why  should  any  of  us  come  short  of  the 
wisdom,  discipline,  approval,  which  will  bring  us  the  diploma 
signed,  "Well  done,  good  and  faithful  servant,  enter  thou 
into  the  joy  of  thy  Lord"  ? 

My  dear  hearer,  art  thou  a  good  scholar  in  this  school  of 
time?  Thou  art  entering  upon  another  term.  Hast  thou 
by  sloth,  disobedience,  impenitence,  obscured  thy  prospects  ? 


102  REV.   HORACE   EATON,   D.D. 

By  application  to  tlie  words  and  to  the  blood  of  Christ, 
"learn  of  Him  "  that  thy  past  delinquencies  may  be  canceled, 
thy  failures,  thy  sins,  be  blotted  out.  Jesus  can  give  thee 
strength,  victory,  and  an  abundant  entrance  on  thy  gradua- 
tion da}'  to  perfect  knowledge  and  to  perfect  joy. 


Untiring  labor  for  the  spiritual  interests  of  his  people  did  not  preclude 
occasional  literary  and  secular  eiforts.  He  delivered  addresses  and  lec- 
tures ^  in  Palmyra  and  in  other  places  ;  but  he  was  jealous  lest  these 
engagements  interfere  with  his  regular  parish  work.  He  "  bore  upon  his 
heart  before  the  Lord  continually "  the  question,  "  Where  is  thy  flock, 
thy  beautiful  flock  ? "  In  his  contributions  to  the  press  he  sought  to 
profit  as  well  as  please,  and  his  articles  were  often  written  to  "  point  a 
moral  "  as  well  as  to  "  adorn  a  tale."  He  desired  to  share  with  his 
friends  what  he  saw  and  heard  as  he  journeyed  in  his  summer  vacations. 
He  greatly  enjoyed  literary  pursuits  and  studies,  and  believed  that  an 
occasional  detour  into  fields  not  strictly  the  domain  of  the  pulpit  gave 
rest  and  elasticity  to  his  own  mind,  and  better  prepared  him  to  preach 
the  gospel.     "The  bow,"  he  said,  "cannot  always  be  bent." 

We  insert  extracts  from  a  lecture  on  "Trees,"  delivered  in  18G7,  long 
before  the  eloquent  pleas  of  to-day  for  our  Adirondack  forests  and  the 
protection  of  our  river-basins. 

. . .  The  very  construction  of  a  tree  proclaims  a  creative  intel- 
ligence. .  .  .  Now  has  the  tree  life  so  much  in  common  with 
man's  life,  —  are  we  alike  living,  breathing,  feeding,  growing, 
social,  and  improving  natures,  —  and  shall  we  scorn  the  idea 
of  kindred  with  these  our  verdant  relatives?  Is  it  all  a 
figure  when  it  is  said,  "  A  man  shall  grow  as  the  palm-tree," 
"  He  shall  flourish  as  a  cedar  in  Lebanon,"  "  As  the  days  of 
a  tree  so  are  the  days  of  my  people  "  ? 

Besides  this  sympathy  in  structure  and  life,  there  is  a  spirit 
in  the  woods  that  is  most  grateful  and  inspiring  to  the  human 
soul.  .  .  .  Trees  stood  in  the  primeval  paradise  the  emblems 
of  knowledge  and  innocence.  Leaves  composed  the  first 
garments.  .  .  .  Of  trees  from  antediluvian  forests  was  made 
the  pontoon  bridge  that  brought  Noah  across  the  flood.  The 
silence,  solitude,  and  tranquillity  of  the  wood  invite  to  medi- 

^  Some  may  recall  liis  earlier  lectures  on  Iiobcrt  Burns,  Ancient  Palmyra, 
John  Milton,  on  Tiic  Imagination,  Address  before  the  Wool  Growers'  Asso- 
ciation, and  others. 


"WOODMAN,   SPARE    THAT  TREE."  103 

tation  and  devotion.  "  The  groves  were  God's  first  temples." 
Abraham  "phmted  a  grove  in  Beersheba,  and  there  called  upon 
the  name  of  the  Lord,  the  everlasting  God."  Under  these 
trees  he  entertained  angels  unawares.  In  the  purchase  of  a 
burying-place,  "  the  trees  that  were  in  the  field,  and  that  were 
in  the  borders  round  about,"  were  made  sure  in  the  deed. 
Balaam  felt  the  inspiration  of  the  forest  as  he  exclaimed, 
"  How  goodly  are  thy  tents,  O  Jacob !  and  thy  tabernacles,  O 
Israel !  As  valleys  are  they  spread  forth,  as  gardens  by  the 
river's  side,  as  the  trees  of  lign-aloes  which  the  Lord  hath 
planted,  and  as  cedar-trees  beside  the  waters."  Solomon 
loved  trees,  and  planted  all  kinds.  He  spake  of  trees,  "from 
the  cedar-tree  that  is  in  Lebanon  even  unto  the  hyssop,  that 
springeth  out  of  the  wall."  The  ancient  prophets  sought  to 
the  trees  for  the  expression  of  their  sorrow.  Elijah  sat  down 
under  a  juniper-tree,  and  the  disconsolate  captives  hung  their 
harps  upon  the  willows.  Again,  in  their  joy  they  heard  the 
sound  of  a  triumphant  "going  in  the  tops  of  the  mulberry- 
trees."  They  called  upon  the  trees  of  the  field  to  "  clap  their 
hands."  They  tuned  their  harps,  they  wrote  under  the  trees, 
and,  like  the  garments  of  Esau,  the  whole  web  of  revelation 
breathes  the  resonant  sweetness  "  of  the  field  which  the  Lord 
hath  blessed."  .  .  .  The  botany  of  tlie  Holy  Land  is  found 
preserved  witliin  the  pages  of  the  Holy  Book. 

But  trees  were  not  only  the  glory  of  Lebanon  and  the 
excellency  of  Carmel,  they  whispered  to  the  poetic  soul 
seated  on  the  top  of  Olympus  or  along  the  banks  of  the 
Illissus.  Classic  song  catches  inspiration  from  the  sighing 
winds,  and  weaves  its  fancies  and  harmonies  from  overhanging 
branches.  Rustic  Tityrus  practices  his  lay  under  the  wide- 
spreading  beech.  Homer  peoples  the  groves  with  nymphs, 
and  gives  soul  to  the  trees.  May  we  not  learn  truth  from 
his  fable  ? 

Is  there  not  a  variety  of  thought  and  sentiment  held  to 
the  eye  by  the  physiognomy  of  trees,  as  by  the  faces  of  men  ? 
May  not  thoughts  hang  upon  branches  as  well  as  upon 
brows?  Who  does  not  see  in  the  oak  of  a  hundred  winters 
the  expression  of  manly  firmness? 

"  Jove's  own  tree,  that  held  the  woods  in  awful  sovereignty." 


104  REV.   HORACE   EATON,   D.D. 

Ill  the  tall  and  waving  elm  are  there  not  depicted  queenly 
diq-nity  and  grace?  In  the  firm  and  regular  maple  we  see  a 
condition,  "well  to  do,"  consistency,  and  common  sense.  The 
evergreen  speaks  of  hope  amid  changes ;  the  aspen,  of  excita- 
bility;  the  willow,  of  sympathy  in  sorrow.  By  their  exquisite 
structure,  mysterious  life,  and  close  association,  trees  have 
struck  their  roots  deep  into  the  soul  of  man,  and  distil  the 
freshness  of  their  foliage  into  every  page  of  sacred  and  classic 
song.  Indeed,  this  natural  admiration  has  degenerated  into 
the  worship  of  trees.  Xerxes  in  his  march  into  Greece 
halted  to  worship  a  plane-tree  in  Lydia,  adorned  it  with 
jewels  and  ornaments  of  gold,  and  appointed  a  sentinel  to 
watch  it.     Each  of  the  gods  had  some  sacred  and  ornamental 

tree.  .  .  . 

I  come  back  to  my  text,  "  Woodman,  spare  that  tree." 
The  tree  is  the  ornament,  the  gem  of  the  landscape.  As 
a  matter  of  taste,  fnie  trees  make  a  more  pleasing  impression 
than  a  gorgeous  dwelling.  .  .  .  That  old  roof-tree  has  been 
an  educator.  It  has  given  off  unconscious  tuition  to  differ- 
ent generations  of  men.  .  .  .  There  are  sacred  trees,  there 
are  patriotic  trees,  —  trees  that  smiled  on  the  heroes,  and 
listened  to  the  cannon,  of  the  Revolution.  It  is  a  tonic  to 
stand  by  the  elm  on  Boston  Common,  or  that  other  elm  at 
Cambridge,  under  the  shadow  of  which  Washington  accepted 
the  command  of  the  American  army.  Hartford  held  funeral 
obsequies  over  the  fall  of  their  Charter  Oak,  and  plucked  a 
leaf  or  a  splinter  to  bequeathe  to  their  children.  .  .  .  What 
shall  we  say  of  those  monarchs  of  the  wilderness  which  God 
Himself  planted  when  the  earth  was  young,  those  patriarchs 
which  almost  connect  our  times  with  those  before  the  flood? 
Turn  to  your  own  deep  and  glorious  woods.  Are  they  not 
memorable  in  their  associations?  Once  the  smoke  of  the 
wigwam  went  up  through  their  branches.  They  greeted  your 
fathers  at  their  coming.  Their  concentric  rings  mark  the 
flight  of  centuries.  .  .  . 

"  Woodman,  spare  that  tree  : "  it  is  the  home  of  the  birds. 
.  .  .  There  are  no  matins  or  vespers  so  inspiriting  to  the 
husbandman    as    the    redbreast's    early    and    evening    song. 


''WOODMAN,    SPARE    THAT   TREE."  105 

There  is  no  flute  like  the  clear,  soft  note  of  the  oriole  as 
he  sings  apart.  How  gloriously  do  the  sounding  aisles  of 
the  deep  woods  ring  to  the  free  and  feathered  songsters ! 
What  more  diverting  than  the  bobolink  clinging  to  a  tree, 
and  gabbling  away  in  his  giggling  drollery !  The  sober 
interests  of  agriculture  suffer  without  this  species  of  wild 
and  cheerful  life.  Many  birds  live  almost  exclusively  on 
larvse  and  insects,  those  depredators  on  the  fruits  of  the  field 
and  the  orchard.  Experience  shows  that  the  destruction  of 
birds  is  the  destruction  of  our  gardens  and  fruit.  Armies  of 
rapacious  creatures  will  come  up  from  the  earth,  and,  like  the 
locust,  sting,  wither,  and  poison  every  green  thing.  We 
cannot  sjjare  the  birds.  Then  we  cannot  spare  the  trees. 
Trees  are  their  home,  shelter,  defence.  "The  trees  of  the 
Lord  are  full  of  sap,  the  cedars  of  Lebanon  which  He  hath 
planted.  There  the  birds  build  their  nests.  By  them  shall 
the  fowls  of  the  heaven  have  their  habitation,  which  sing 
among  the  branches." 

But  forest-trees  should  be  spared  as  the  shelter  and 
defence  of  our  fields  and  fruits.  This  Wayne  County  rejoices 
in  orchards  and  vineyards.  A  belt  of  land  some  twenty 
miles  wide  hugs  the  southern  shore  of  the  lake,  extending 
from  Red  Creek  westward,  nearly  to  Buffalo.  This  is  fitted 
in  soil  and  climate  to  be  one  great  orchard,  with  less  labor 
rendering  a  far  richer  income  than  any  other  product.  Since 
the  forests  have  been  so  ruthlessly  cut  away,  fruit,  especially 
peaches,  have  become  a  precarious  crop.  Winds  having  their 
full  sweep  strike  and  chill  the  trees.  Our  orchards  must 
have  the  defence  of  the  forests  on  the  windward.  John 
Thomas  in  visiting  this  section,  so  long  his  residence,  could 
not  refrain  from  publishing  his  regret  at  the  Avasting-away 
of  the  forests.  The  crash  of  our  trees,  like  the  voice  of 
ancient  ^olus,  has  opened  the  Cave  of  the  Winds,  and  sent 
them  in  destructive  ranks  over  the  landscape.  Shot  and 
shell  are  hurled  in  the  face  of  the  traveler.  Flocks  and 
herds  fly  for  shelter  across  the  plain ;  and  the  tempests  come 
down  upon  our  dwellings  like  "  the  storm  of  the  terrible  ones 
against  the  wall."     The  snow  given  as  wool  for  a  mantle  to 


106  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

the  tender  life  of  plants  and  to  the  springing  grain,  is  swept 
away  in  drifts.  The  naked  trees  are  subjected  to  the  freez- 
ing cold.  Winter  grain  is  thrown  out  by  the  frost,  or  torn 
out  b}^  the  wind.  Young  and  newly  planted  orchards  are 
frozen,  dried  up,  and  destroyed  by  the  blasts  of  the  winter 
months.  .  .  . 

"  Woodman,  spare  that  tree."  It  is  your  defence  against 
consuming  drought.  The  heated  currents  from  the  open 
field  meet  the  cooler  air  of  the  forest.  The  temperature 
sinks.  Moisture  is  deposited.  "Hath  the  rain  a  father?" 
Yes,  the  oaks  and  waving  pines  beget  the  drops  of  the  dew. 
The  heavens  bend  to  distil  their  silvery  progeny  on  the 
incense-bearing  leaves.  Fields  adjoining  the  woods  share  in 
this  freshness. 

But  trees  not  only  invite  the  rain,  but,  by  the  fallen  leaves 
at  the  roots  and  by  the  leaves  on  the  branches,  they  protect 
these  watery  treasures  from  the  boiling  rays  and  absorbing 
winds  of  heaven.  The  forests  nourish  and  feed  the  springs 
which  run  among  the  hills.  Trees  hoard  and  keep  the  treas- 
ures of  the  snow.  The  first  snows  descend  before  the  ground 
is  frozen  in  the  woods.  Additions  are  made  during  the 
winter.  When  "  the  south  winds  blow  and  the  waters  flow," 
the  soil  of  the  forest  is  like  a  sponge,  ready  to  take  up  and 
hold  all  the  moisture  committed  to  it.  These  deposits  of  the 
snow  fill  the  reservoirs  of  the  springs  for  summer.  Not  so 
with  the  open  glebe.  That  is  early  frozen,  and  the  snow  not 
already  blown  away  melts,  and  the  water  runs  off  in  freshets. 
Hence  we  find  the  soil  of  the  forests  filled  with  moisture, 
while  that  of  the  field  is  parched.  A  landscape  denuded  of 
forests  is  bereft  of  the  song  of  the  babbling  rivulet.  Our 
own  once  cheerful  brook  so  mourns  the  loss  of  its  parent 
trees  that  it  has  wept  itself  dry.  Once  it  was  a  continual 
song  through  our  fields  and  gardens.  Once  it  was  a  power. 
Save  on  the  Sabbaths,  it  drove  Deacon  Jessup's  saw-mill  every 
day  in  the  year.  The  dear  old  trees  of  the  wood  are  the 
mediators  between  the  waters  above  and  thirsty  fields,  thirsty 
springs,  and  thirsty  men. 

"  Woodman,  spare  that  tree."     It  will  protect  your  health. 


"WOODMAN,   SPARE    THAT   TREE:'  lOT 

A  malanous  atmosphere  is  purified  by  passing  through  living 
vegetation.  The  tree  of  life  was  an  emblem  of  perpetual 
and  eternal  health.  Moses  sweetened  the  bitter  waters  of 
Marah  by  the  liealing  virtues  of  a  tree.  The  balm  of  Gilead, 
gashed  and  mangled,  sent  out  its  sovereign  remedy.  Trees 
are  still  the  bearers  of  healing  to  the  human  race.  Malarious 
exhalations  are  cleansed  away  by  the  breath  of  the  forest. 
,  .  .  Forests  modify  the  cold  of  winter  and  the  heat  of 
summer,  and  prevent  sudden  and  trying  changes  in  the 
atmosphere.  Lumbermen  work  with  comfort  in  the  deep 
woods  when  they  would  freeze  in  the  open  field. ...  To  destroy 
the  trees  is  to  break  the  established  harmony  between  animal 
and  vegetable  life.  The  tree  exhales  oxygen :  the  man 
absorbs  oxygen.  Man  breathes  out  carbon ;  the  tree  breathes 
in  carbon.  .  .  . 

The  destruction  of  surviving  forests  is  ingratitude  to  our 
ancestry,  and  injustice  to  our  posterity.  You  have  been 
warmed  and  shaded  by  these  woodlands  wliich  your  fathers 
transmitted  to  you  intact.  How  can  you  better  pay  the  debt 
than  by  handing  down  to  your  children  the  same  blessing  ? 
I  know  you  are  beset  with  strong  temptations  to  sacrifice 
this  inheritance.  The  owner  of  more  than  one  hundred  and 
forty  acres  of  these  tall,  splendid  forest-trees  was  besieged 
to  turn  them  over  to  the  tender  mercies  of  the  railroad. 
"What,"  said  he,  "shall  I  consign  the  magnificent  possession 
of  my  fathers  to  the  voracious  maw  of  the  iron  horse,  breath- 
ing out  threatenings  and  slaughter  against  the  life  of  every 
tree?  Shall  I  take  these  innocent  children  of  the  wood,  and 
cause  them  to  pass  through  the  fire  unto  Moloch?"  In  a 
neighboring  town,  a  clear-sighted  and  benevolent  father 
about  to  leave  the  world  protected  a  hundred  acres  of  wood- 
land by  a  provision  in  his  will.  His  son  could  hold  property 
only  as  long  as  he  preserved  the  live  and  vigorous  timber, 
removing  only  that  which  was  decaying  or  fallen.  This  man 
was  a  Quaker,  a  true  "  Friend  "  to  his  posterity.  One  of  your 
number  informed  me,  that  passing  on  a  time  the  house  of  the 
late  General  Thomas  Rogers,  and  pointing  his  finger  to  his 
woodpile,  he  said,  "  General,  why  do   you  spare   those  fine 


108  REV.   HORACE  EATOX,   D.D. 

trees  of  your  forests,  and  take  up  with  such  wood  for  your- 
self?" This  man  of  strong  sense,  fixing  his  penetrating  eye 
upon  tlie  inquirer,  replied,  "When  I  came  upon  the  stage,  I 
found  these  woodlands  ready  to  my  hand.  Tliey  have  served 
me  well,  and  I  propose  to  transmit  them  unimpaired  to  the 
next  generation.^  We  all  feel  the  nobility  of  such  a  senti- 
ment,—  a  sentiment  not  exhibited  in  the  reckless  destruction 
of  the  forests  for  a  present  and  personal  advantage. 

What  is  sin  but  the  seizure  of  an  immediate  gratification 
at  the  sacrifice  of  a  distant  and  greater  good?  .  .  .  More 
than  two  hundred  years  ago,  Bernard  Palissy,  a  Huguenot, 
thus  pleaded  for  the  forests  in  France :  "  When  I  consider 
the  value  of  the  smallest  grove  of  trees,  I  much  marvel  at 
the  great  ignorance  of  men,  who,  as  it  seemeth,  do  nowa- 
days study  only  to  break  down,  fell,  and  waste  the  fair 
forests  which  their  forefathers  did  guard  so  choicely.  I 
would  think  no  evil  of  them  for  cutting  down  the  woods,  did 
they  but  replant  again  some  part  of  them.  But  they  care  not 
for  the  time  to  come,  neither  reck  they  of  the  great  damage 
they  do  to  their  children  Avhieh  shall  come  after  them." 

1  Nearly  thirty  years  ago.  Dr.  Eaton  suggested  to  the  fathers  of  tlie  town 
the  purchase  of  Prospect  Hill.     He  said,  — 

"It  would  he  a  most  princely  generosity  to  secxire  this  to  coming  genera- 
tions from  the  ravages  of  venality  and  unfeeling  speculation.  Athens  had 
her  Hymettus,  where  the  bees  gathered  from  the  wild  thyme  their  sweetest 
treasures,  and  the  Muses  sat  together  in  their  melodious  concerts.  Ancient 
Samaria  had  her  Gerizim,  crowned  with  its  sacred  temple;  Jerusalem  had 
her  Moimt  of  Olives,  inviting  to  an  elevated  devotion,  whence  jirophets  and 
even  Jesus  retired  from  the  heated  city  to  drink  in  the  enchanting  prospect, 
and  fan  tlicir  frames  with  the  hreczcs  of  heaven. 

"  So  let  I'alniyra  have  a  Mount  of  Olives,  not  as  a  high  place  of  idolatry,  or 
as  a  grove  for  Sabbatli-breakiiig,  but  as  a  genial  summit  from  which  to  look 
abroad  upon  the  works  of  nature  and  of  art,  —  a  place  of  pure  meditation, 
where  trees  and  flowers  may  breathe  their  incense,  where  birds,  unscarcd,  may 
mingle  their  notes  with  the  songs  of  childhood.  Let  our  Prospect  Hill  remain 
an  unhewn  altar  to  invite  future  generations  to  pure  refinement  and  exalted 
sensibilities." 

In  1884,  the  late  Carlton  II.  Rogers,  Esq.,  inheriting  the  sentiments  of  liis 
father,  bequeathed  to  the  town  of  Palmyra  the  wooded  hill  referred  to.  With 
filial  love,  he  wished  it  to  receive  the  name,  "  Mount  Holmes,"  in  honor  of  his 
mother.     Gratitude  for  this  gift  will  not  be  confined  to  our  own  generation. 


ARTICLES  FOR    THE  PRESS.  109 

Moses  gave  commaiiclment  to  the  chosen  tribes:  "When 
thou  goest  out  to  besiege  or  make  war  upon  another  nation, 
thou  shalt  not  destroy  the  trees  by  forcing  an  axe  against 
them,"  —  "  for,"  he  adds,  "  the  tree  of  the  fiekl  is  man's  hfe." 

Forget  not,  fellow-citizens,  that  the  very  name  of  our  vil- 
hige  means  "the  city  of  palms."  Trees  gave  attractiveness 
to  the  ancient  city,  which  stood  an  oasis  on  the  great  high- 
way of  the  desert.  Not  less  do  the  trees  of  our  modern  Pal- 
myra extort  the  admiration  of  travelers  as  they  go  by  us  on 
this  great  railway  from  the  east  to  the  west.  .  .  . 

You  will  rather  say  to  the  few  clumps  of  trees  that  stand 
trembling  in  the  vale  or  on  the  crests  of  the  hills,  "  Be  not 
afraid  "  ;  and  to  the  axe,  "  Here  shall  thy  proud  ravages  be 
stayed."  .  .  . 

We  insert  a  few  specimens  of  his  newspaper  articles. 

The  following  is  from  a  letter  written  after  visiting  a  factory  in 
Bridgeport,  Conn.,  for  the  manufacture  of  sewing-machines,  and  not  long 
after  their  first  introduction.  Dr.  Eaton  always  loved  to  examine  fine 
machinery. 

.  .  .  Eve,  the  first  woman,  was  the  first  seamstress.  As 
she  sewed  fig-leaves  together  for  aprons,  we  are  not  informed 
what  thorn  she  used  for  a  needle,  or  the  fibre  of  what  bark 
for  thread.  We  have  no  record  of  the  devices  in  embroidery 
worn  by  the  antediluvian  females.  But,  had  there  been  a 
sewing-machine  then,  Noah's  wife  and  her  daugliters-in-law 
would  surely  have  taken  it  into  the  ark.  There  was  no 
sewing-machine  before  the  flood. 

The  ingenuity  of  Egyptian  ladies  is  still  .preserved  in  the 
Catacombs.  They  wrought  their  lives  into  their  shrouds. 
Wise-hearted  Hebrew  women  made  the  embroidered  gar- 
ments for  Aaron  and  his  sons.  "All  things  were  full  of 
labor."  In  variegated  needlework  they  traced  the  vine  and 
the  pomegranate,  all  the  colors  and  garniture  of  Nature  upon 
the  curtains  of  the  tabernacle;  "the  work  of  those  who 
devised  cunning  work."  The  female  hand  has  always  been 
the  most  tasteful  and  diligent  in  beautifying  the  sanctuaries 
of  the  Most  High.  It  was  doubtless  the  lifelong  work  of 
some  obscure  Babylonish  woman  to  stitch  the  garment  that 


110  REV.   HORACE  EATON,    D.D. 

so  bewitched  and  overcame  the  virtue  of  poor  Achan.  Per- 
haps lie  stole  it  for  his  wife  and  daughters.  There  was  no 
sewing-machine  in  Babylon. 

The  Tyrians  traded  "  in  blue  and  purple  and  fine  linen." 
The}^  wore  out  human  fingers  in  working  brilliant  figures 
upon  even  the  sails  of  their  ships.  By  machinery  these 
wings  of  commerce  are  now  decorated  with  greater  ease  and 
I'apidity.  The  sewing-machine  has  excelled  Hiram,  the 
widow's  son,  the  artist  of  the  temple. 

The  needlework  of  an  Israelitish  lady's  wardrobe  was  the 
richest  spoil  conquerors  could  carry  away  from  the  land 
of  the  Hebrews.  Upon  what  was  the  mother  of  Sisera  most 
intent  as  "she  looked  out  at  the  window,  and  cried  through 
the  lattice.  Why  is  his  chariot  so  long  in  coming?  Why 
tarry  the  wheels  of  his  chariot  ?  Her  wise  ladies  answered 
her,  yea,  she  returned  answer  to  herself.  Have  they  not 
sped?  Have  they  not  divided  the  prey,  —  to  Sisera  a  prey 
of  divers  colors,  a  prey  of  divers  colors  of  needlework,  of 
divers  colors  of  needlework  on  both  sides,  meet  for  the  necks 
of  them  that  take  the  spoil '^"  Here  was  foreshadowed  the 
peculiar  excellence  of  our  sewing-machine.  The  needlework 
is  alike  "on  both  sides." 

Joseph's  coat  of  many  colors,  the  little  frock  that  Hannah 
brought  to  Samuel  from  year  to  year,  the  mantle  of  Elijah, 
by  which  Jordan  was  divided,  may  have  been  wrought  with 
tiresome  though  loving  toil.  The  daughter  of  Pharaoh,  when 
presented  as  a  bride  to  Solomon,  "was  brought  unto  the 
king  in  raiment  of  needlework."  What  expense  of  nerve 
and  life  for  royalty !  But  neither  Solomon's  wife  nor 
Lemuel's  mother  ever  saw  a  sewing-machine.  Solomon  in 
all  his  glory  was  not  arrayed  by  one  of  these. 

The  chaste  and  beautiful  Penelope,  in  the  twenty  years' 
absence  of  Ulysses  her  husband,  kept  her  numerous  suitors 
at  bay  by  the  promise  to  marry  one  of  them  as  soon  as  she 
should  finish  a  piece  of  tapestry  upon  which  she  was  then 
employed.  She  protracted  the  time  to  her  husband's  return 
by  raveling  out  in  the  night  what  she  had  wrought  during 
the   day.     In   stitching  Penelope's   web,  we   must  own   our 


ARTICLES   FOR    THE   PRESS.  HI 

machine  would  have  been  at  fault:  the  stitch  is  too  firm  to 
be  unraveled. 

At  Plymouth  Rock  I  have  seen  the  needlework  of  Rose 
btandish,  Priscilla  Alden,  and  other  Puritan  maidens,  the 
lock-stitch  of  art  and  faith  that  beguiled  the  weary  weeks  to 
their  wilderness  home. 

The  i^eedle  has  served  two  ends,— pride  and  poverty  It 
commenced  its  work  at  the  fall.  But  the  needle  had  no  part 
in  the  Saviour's  robe.  That  was  without  seam,  woven  from 
the  top  throughout.  And  does  not  a  ray  of  light  gleam  from 
this  fact  to  the  time  when  machinery,  almost  self-intelligent 
shall  lift  the  burden  that  for  twice  eighteen  centuries  has 
bowed  the  female  form  "so  that  she  could  in  no  wise  lift  up 
herself"?  And  shall  it  not  speak  the  life-giving  word, 
"Woman,  thou  art  loosed  from  thine  infirmity"?''  Then 
shall  she  be  made  straight,  and  glorify  God.  . 

Father  Waldo.  j^,^,^^  ^g^^^ 

...  The  last  week  we  have  had  in  our  village  a  livmg 
antique,  the  body  a  little  marked,  indeed,  by  the  battle  of 
hie,  but  yet  his  hearing  scarcely  dulled,  his  eye  not  dim,  nor 
his  natural  force  abated. 

t.7^'\t?.7'  -^'''"'^^  ^^'''^'^^  ^'  '^^^^^^"  t^^o  jears  of  a  century. 
Were  William  Pitt  the  younger  now  alive,  he  would  be  but 
three  years   older  than   Mr.   Waldo;    Alexander   Hamilton, 
but  hve  years;   and  Washington  himself,  but   thirty  vears 
older.     Napoleon,  Marshal   Ney,  Humboldt,   Lord  Wellino-- 
ton,  and  DeWitt  Clinton  were  born  1769.     They  have  run 
tlieir  brilliant  careers,  and  silence    sits   upon   their   tombs 
But  Father  Waldo,  born  seven  years  before  them,  still  lives 
to  tell   us  from   his    own    memory  of  the    events   and    the 
enthusiasm  that  brought  on   the   Declaration   of  Independ- 
ence, as  well  as  the  part  he  acted  in  the  struggle  that  secured 
to  us  our  liberties. 

_  He  vouches  for  this  marvelous  incident  in  the  history  of 
his  birthplace,  Windham,  Conn.     The  frogs  in  a  certain  pond 
on  account  of  drought  in  their  own  locality,  determined  to 
emigrate  to  another  and  larger  body  of  water  in  the  same 


112  REV.    n GRACE   EATON,   D.D. 

town.  The  inhabitants  of  the  invaded  pond,  warned  of  the 
approaching  army,  rallied  for  resistance.  The  battle  was 
tremendous;  thousands  were  slain.  But  the  clangor  of  the 
conflict  terril)ly  frightened  the  quiet  people  of  Windham. 
To  their  excited  imaginations  there  seemed  to  be  two  cries, 
calling  for  two  opposing  leaders  in  the  town :  one  with  a 
deep  base,  and  funereal  gravity,  "  Colonel  Dyer,  Colonel 
Dyer";  the  other,  piping  with  an  acute  soprano,  "Elderkin 
too,  Elderkin  too."  A  hearty  reconciliation  between  the  rival 
demagogues  immediately  followed. 

He  distinctly  remembers  the  "Dark  Day"  of  1780. 
"From  ten  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  ouAvard,"  said  he, 
"it  was  dark  enough."  Candles  were  lighted  in  the  houses, 
and  an  unearthly  gloom  reigned  without.  The  night  thick- 
ened into  Egyptian  darkness. 

Omitting  the  philosophy,  "it  was  a  fact,"  said  he,  "that 
the  Northern  Lights  preceding  the  Revolutionary  War  were 
terrific."  Some  imagined  them  armies  in  the  sky,  and  that 
they  heard  the  whiz  of  their  fiery  weapons.  At  the  time  of  the 
total  eclipse  of  180G,  Father  AValdo  was  pastor  of  a  church  in 
Suffield,  Conn.  In  the  depths  of  the  shadow,  a  woman  who 
had  neglected  to  read  her  almanac  seized  her  children  in  dis- 
may, and  fled  to  take  sanctuary  in  Mr.  W.'s  house.  Oji  her 
way  thither,  the  sun  began  to  appear,  and  this  turned  the 
frightened  group  back  to  their  home. 

Dec.  14,  1773,  when  the  order  went  forth  from  the  citizens 
assembled  in  the  Old  South  Church,  ""Boston  Harbor  a 
teapot  to-night,''''  he  was  a  boy  of  eleven  years.  His  young 
heart  thrilled  with  tlie  reports  from  Piunker  Hill.  His  father 
had  seven  sons  and  four  daughters;  and,  when  Daniel  was 
sixteen  years  old,  he  armed  and  equipped  four  of  his  sons, 
and  sent  them  to  the  war.  Two  of  them  were  surgeons.  The 
mother  felt  it  hard  to  part  with  her  youngest  son.  The  Cow 
Boys  were  a  detachment  of  Tories  who  annoyed  the  patriots, 
and  drove  off  the  cattle  from  the  farms  of  Westchester  to 
support  the  British  camp.  While  I\Ir.  Waldo  was  standing 
sentinel  near  Greenwich,  Conn.,  one  rainy  night,  he  was 
suddenly  surrounded  by  a    company   of   these    Cow   Boys. 


ARTICLES  FOR    THE  PRESS.  113 

While  resisting  them,  one  flashed  his  gun  at  hira ;  but  it  did 
not  go  off.  After  having  surrendered,  another  pressed  his 
bayonet  to  his  breast,  about  to  run  him  through.  Young 
Waldo  firmly  said,  '•'  I  have  surrendered  as  prisoner  of  war, 
and  I  expect  protection."  His  life  was  spared.  Then  they 
attempted  to  influence  him  to  join  the  British  ranks.  This 
lie  repelled  with  indignation,  answering,  "  /  shall  ahvays  he 
true  to  my  country.''''  He  was  marched  to  New  York  City, 
and  with  five  hundred  otliers  was  shut  up  in  the  Old  Sugar 
House  in  Liberty  Street,  near  the  middle  Dutch  Cliuroh,  now 
the  post-office.  There,  without  fire,  "with  just  half  enough 
to  eat,"  he  remained  until  prisoners  were  exchanged,  when 
he  returned,  sick  and  emaciated,  to  Windham.  Having 
recovered  his  health,  he  spent  the  year  1783  in  studying  with 
Rev.  Dr.  Backus  of  Somers,  Conn.  In  1784,  he  entered 
college  —  saw  "  Jimmy  Hillhouse  "  setting  out  the  trees  that 
now  arch  tlie  "  City  of  Elms."  .  .  . 

WHule  at  New  Haven,  he  heard  Dr.  Bellamy  of  Bethle- 
hem, Conn.,  preach.  Dr.  B.  was  a  pupil  and  intimate  friend 
of  President  Jonathan  Edwards  of  Northampton,  Mass. 
Mr.  Waldo's  memory  is  rich  with  ministerial  anecdotes. 
Rev.  Dr.  Samuel  Hopkins  of  Newport  was  accustomed 
every  year  to  visit  Dr.  Bellamy  at  Bethlehem,  just  as  Dr. 
Bellamy  had  visited  Rev.  Mr.  Edwards  at  Northampton. 
On  one  of  these  occasions,  Hopkins,  after  having  settled  in 
his  own  convictions  the  question  of  slavery,  said  to  Dr. 
Bellamy,  "It's  wrong  for  you  to  keep  Pomp  a  shave."  — 
"  Why  ?  "  said  Bellamy.  "  He  would  not  be  free  if  he  could." 
—  "Call  liim  in,"  said  Hopkins.  "  Pomp,  you  are  kindly  cared 
for  ;  you  do  not  wish  to  be  free  ?  "  —  "  Yes,  massa,"  replied 
the  negro  with  a  grin,  "me  want  to  be  free."  ^"  Well,"  says 
Bellamy  with  deep  earnestness,  "  from  this  moment  you  are 

free."  .  .  . 

The  Tliirty-fourth  Congress  elected  Father  Waldo  their 
chaplain ;  and  through  185G  and  1857  he  served  his  Master  as 
faithfully  in  the  House  of  Representatives  as  seventj^-seven 
years  before  he  had  served  his  country  in  tlie  field.  He 
preached  the  funeral  sermon  of  Brooks. 


114  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

Many  a  youth  in  this  place  will  ever  remember  the  Revolu- 
tionary soldier,  the  aged  minister,  who  eighty-two  years  ago 
enlisted  in  the  defence  of  liis  conntry,  and  eiyhijj-four  years 
ago  enlisted  a  soldier  of  tlie  cross  of  Christ,  and  Avho  for 
seventy-one  years  has  not  failed  to  proclaim  His  gospel. 
The  discoui-se  he  delivered  in  Palmyra  last  week  was  quaint, 
clear,  and  impressive.  It  Avas  an  interesting  mon>ent  when 
this  venerable  man  stood  before  one  of  our  Sabbath-schools, 
and  in  the  beautiful  language  of  the  Thirty-fourth  Psalm  thus 
addressed  the  youth:  "Come,  ye  children,  hearken  unto 
me  ;  I  will  teach  you  the  fear  of  the  Lord.  Wliat  man  is  he 
that  desireth  life,  and  loveth  many  days,  that  he  may  see 
g-ood?  Keep  thy  tongue  from  evil,  and  thy  lips  from  speak- 
ing- guile.  Depart  from  evil,  and  do  good.  Seek  peace  and 
pursue  it." 

Laura. 

Some  animals  are  designed  for  the  companionship  and 
diversion  of  man.  A  pet  dog,  horse,  or  bird  may  exhibit 
such  intelligence  and  affection  as  to  embalm  its  name  and 
memory  in  the  home  and  in  the  lieart. 

When  I  came  to  Palmyra  in  February,  1849,  I  was  warmly 
frected  bv  a  favorite  parrot  belonging  to  Mrs.  James  E. 
Walker.  The  bird  lived  to  be  forty-eight  years  old,  and 
died  at  the  house  of  her  mistress  the  last  year.  The  sight 
of  the  weU-i)reserved  though  lifeless  body  elicitetl  some  inter- 
esting remembrances. 

Laura  -was  a  true  Native  American.  Dr.  Henry  Perrine, 
while  United-States  consul  at  Campeaehy,  Yucatan,  took  her, 
with  twelve  othere  of  brilliant  Aving,  from  the  groves  of  the 
tropics,  and  sent  them  nortli.  Eleven  died  of  sea-sickness. 
The  lines  fell  to  Laura  in  a  pleasant  home  in  Palmyra,  N.Y. 
She  improved  her  opportunities.  She  Avas  a  scholar  in  Eng- 
lish. Though  Spanisii  Avas  her  mother-tongue,  she  preferred 
the  language  of  the  people  among  Avhom  she  had  come  to 
dwell.     She  learned  to  speak  and  sing  in  English. 

Laura  Avas  a  persistent  Democrat.  On  her  arrival  north, 
politics  ran  high.  Clay  and  Jackson  Avere  up  for  the  presi- 
dency.    Rev.  Jesse  Townsend,  Avhose  sheltering  roof  the  bird 


ARTICLES  FOR    THE  PRESS.  115 

enjoyed,  Avas  a  decided  Clay  man.  It  would  seem  that  policy, 
and  even  gratitude,  would  have  inclined  the  stranger  to  agree 
with  so  wise  a  master.  We  have  the  choice  of  two  explana- 
tions :  one,  that  the  parrot's  principles  were  so  unbending 
as  to  overbear  all  minor  considerations,  or  that  she  was  some- 
how clandestine!}^  influenced.  It  was  a  matter  of  surprise  to 
the  good  man  of  the  house  when  one  morning  Laura  broke 
out  in  lusty  hurrahs  for  Jackson. 

Rev.  Daniel  Waldo,  an  old  college  friend  of  Mr.  Townsend, 
was  accustomed  to  visit  at  Palmyra,  and  enjoy  the  spicy  an- 
noyance as  the  bird  kept  up  this  shout.  Many  years  after 
the  death  of  Mr.  Townsend,  when  Mr.  Waldo  was  one  hun- 
dred and  two  years  old,  he  came  again  to  call  on  the  family 
of  his  friend.  No  sooner  did  the  aged  form  enter  the  house 
than  Laura,  as  if  remembering  persons  and  scenes  long  since 
passed  away,  resumed  her  old  notes,  "  Hurrah  for  Jackson !  " 
More  recently,  in  the  stimulating  j^olitical  atmosphere  of 
Albany,  Laura  was  urged  to  change,  and  hurrah  for  Grant. 
She  still  held  on  the  even  tenor  of  her  way,  —  "  Hurrah  for 
Jackson  !  "     Laura  was  no  weathercock  in  politics. 

Laura  was  a  popular  singer.  How  many  still  remember 
her  favorite  song,  which  she  was  accustomed  to  render  clearly 
and  distinctly,  — 

"My  pretty  bird,  it  makes  me  sad 
To  think  tliou  canst  not  fiy ; 
For  well  I  know  thou  wouldst  be  glad 
To  see  the  bright  blue  sky." 

Laura,  though  not  an  epicure,  had  a  decided  taste  for  good 
living.  She  never  failed  to  know  the  cook  by  name.  In 
good  season  in  the  morning  she  Avould  cry,  "  Bridget,  put 
the  breakfast  on,  Laura  Avants  her  breakfast,  Laura  loves 
coffee ! " 

Laura  Avas  a  temperance  advocate.  When  one  evidently 
not  an  abstainer  came  in  to  hear  her  sing,  she  greeted  him 
Avith  nothing  save  the  pointed  rebuke,  "Let  drunkards  bcAvare, 
and  of  tippling  take  care." 

Laura  made  her  songs  contribute  to  Avholesome  industry. 
She  sung  nothing  Avith  more  readiness  than  the  good  old 
words  of  Watts  :  — 


116  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

"  How  doth  the  little  busy  bee 
Improve  each  shining  hour, 
And  gather  honey  all  the  day 
From  every  opening  flower !  " 

Laura  kept  the  Sabbath.  She  refrained  from  walking 
abroad.  She  Laid  aside  her  usual  secular  songs,  and,  if  any 
thing,  she  would  say,  "jNIagnify  and  praise  the  Lord." 

Toward  the  close  of  life  she  grew  feeble.  The  last  word 
she  ever  uttered  was,  "  Good-by." 

The  following  letter  was  written  while  spending  a  summer  vacation  at 
the  old  homestead  of  his  valued  friend,  the  late  Mrs.  C.  B.  Hatch. 

The  Shipmaster's  Garret. 

Nantucket,  Mass.,  Aug.  18,  1877. 

My  recollections  of  the  old  garret  of  ni}'  boyhood  are  not 
pleasing.  There,  on  rainy  days,  I  used  to  shell  corn,  grind- 
ing the  ear  against  the  handle  of  the  frying-pan.  The  garret 
of  oiu-  old  home  was  a  kind  of  a  "  Botany  Bay,"  where  we 
cast  old  iron  and  old  shoes.  But  the  shipmaster's  garret  of 
Nantucket  was  an  ark,  a  treasure-house  of  sacred  memorials 
of  men  and  times  long  gone  by.  The  house  of  my  kind  host 
in  Nantucket  is  sj^acious,  and  strong  with  the  native  oak.  It 
is  one  hundred  and  thirty  years  old.  It  is  twenty-nine  years 
older  than  the  nation.  This  shipmaster's  garret  tells  of  tvars 
and  rumors  of  wars.  It  was  built  in  the  stormy  times  when 
France  and  England  were  in  conflict  over  the  interests  of 
their  American  Colonies.  Nantucket  was  far  out  from  the 
mainland,  exposed  to  the  invasions  of  the  French  in  the  time 
of  their  war,  and  again  to  those  of  the  British  in  the  time  of 
the  Revolution.  This  garret  was  arranged  to  meet  these 
exigencies.  A  trap-door  recently  discovered  conducts,  by  a 
narrow,  steep  stairway,  to  a  secret  vault,  where  were  placed 
the  hidden  treasures.  Recesses  also,  \nider  the  eaves,  were 
constructed  to  evade  the  search  of  the  enemy. 

This  shipmaster's  garret  also  tells  of  wrecks  and  disasters 
in  distant  climes.  That  old  oaken  chest,  bound  with  iron, 
bruised,  not  broken,  with  lock  and  fastenings  that  no  inge- 
nuity or  violence  has  overcome,  —  that  strong  oaken  box 
was  the  companion  of  the  father,  the  son,  and  the  grantlson 


ARTICLES   FOR    THE   PRESS.  117 

through  wastes  of  waters  to  barbarian  shores,  to  rivers  un- 
known to  song.  Sermons,  poetry,  power,  cleave  to  that  old 
box  in  the  garret. 

But  this  old  garret  holds  the  history  of  hearts.  The  last 
master  who  hung  up  his  trophies  in  this  sacred  receptacle 
had  an  only  child,  a  daughter  who  died  at  the  age  of  twelve. 
Like  the  brave  old  Jephthah,  he  bore  this  only  daughter  on 
his  heart  as  lie  went  to,  and  returned  from,  the  field  of  con- 
flict. When  long  calms  at  sea  lay  upon  him,  his  leisure  whit- 
tlings  were  intwined  with  thoughts  of  affection  for  his  child. 
He  remembered  her  early  years  ;  he  looked  forward  with 
bright  expectations  to  her  future.  When  far  away  in  the 
Arctics,  he  planned  for  her  an  ingenious  toilet-box.  With  his 
own  hand  he  inlaid  it  with  ivory,  tortoise,  muther-of-pearl, 
and  anticipated  the  time  when  he  should  present  it  as  the 
token  of  his  affection  when  far  from  home.  But  a  message 
brouglit  to  him  the  sad  news  that  his  darling  awaited  his 
return  in  her  early  grave.  How  the  brave  heart  lost  its 
courage,  the  rigid  hand  forgot  its  cunning  and  the  exquisite 
work  that  so  long  had  drawn  his  tender  thoughts  from  dis- 
tant solitudes  towards  his  own  home,  to  this  day  remains 
unfinished  in  the  garret  of  the  old  shipmaster.  His  pur- 
poses were  "  broken  off,  even  the  designs  of  his  heart."  A 
wreath  of  brilliant  and  unfading  fiowers,  woven  of  the  plum- 
age of  the  soutli-sea  birds,  and  other  memorials  brought  from 
the  ends  of  the  earth  to  please  and  adorn  the  only  child  and 
daugliter,  are  still  found  in  the  shipmaster's  garret. 

From  the  garret  there  is  an  easy  ascent  to  the  observatory 
on  the  house-top,  which  arrangement  subserved  the  tenderest 
feelings  of  the  master  and  his  family  as  he  left  his  home  on 
his  long  and  dangerous  voyage.  When  the  wife  and  the 
children  had  attended  the  husband  and  father  to  the  ship, 
and  when  they  had  "  fallen  upon  his  neck  and  kissed  him," 
tliey  hastened  back  to  the  house-top  to  vibrate  glances  and 
exchange  signals  till  house  and  ship  respectively  faded  from 
their  eyes.  From  the  same  house-top  the  return  of  the  hero 
was  welcomed  as  he  entered  the  harbor  with  the  rewards  of 
his  perils,  labors,  and  sacrifices. 


118  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

Prepare  to  Guard !  Dec.  2-i,  1869. 

Where  our  canal  has  given  way,  we  arc  accustomed  to  set 
double  support.  We  strengthen  the  embankment  with  addi- 
tional stone  and  earth.  We  look  out  for  danger.  The  Duke 
of  Wellington,  during  the  Peninsular  war,  heard  that  a  large 
magazine  of  wine  lay  on  his  line  of  march.  He  saw  that 
there  was  moie  peril  to  his  men  from  these  barrels  of  wine 
than  from  batteries  of  cannon,  and  at  once  despatched  a  body 
of  troops  to  knock  every  wine-barrel  in  the  head. 

Along  the  march  of  life  there  are  points  of  danger.  Judg- 
ing from  the  past,  we  have  reason  to  fear  that  a  break,  a 
crevasse,  will  be  made  in  some  one's  character  and  virtue 
during  the  coming  season  of  Christmas  and  New  Year's. 
Forewarned,  we  may  be  forearmed,  and  pass  the  point  in 
safety.  We  would  not  cast  the  slightest  shade  upon  the 
cheerfulness  and  exhilaration,  fitted  to  give  health  to  the 
body,  and  tone  to  the  mind.  At  the  right  time  the  Hash, 
the  sally,  the  hearty  laugh,  will  do  no  hurt,  but  rather  blow 
the  dust,  and  sweep  the  cobwebs,  from  the  sombre  mind. 
True  cheerfulness  is  the  growth  of  innocence,  of  an  approv- 
ing conscience,  and  good-will  to  all.  But  to  celebrate  with 
gladness  the  Saviour's  birth,  what  need  of  the  "wme  and  the 
zvassaiV  of  a  heathen  and  a  drunken  age?  The  first  Christ- 
mas carol  on  the  plains  of  Bethlehem  was  inspired  b}^  no  such 
unhallowed  fire,  and  needs  none  to  send  it  down  the  ages. 

Nor  is  Neic-Years  Day  the  time  to  sink  the  man  in  the 
beast,  but  the  moment  to  rise  to  a  higher  level  and  a  higher 
life.  To  how  many  has  this  been  a  meridian  of  light,  when 
they  started  on  a  career  upward,  that  has  grown  brighter  and 
brighter !  How  many  remember  it  with  regret !  Then 
temptation  prevailed.  On  that  day  they  took  the  first,  the 
fatal  glass.  Ah,  the  cost  of  the  first  New  Year's  sjiree ! 
Blasting  lit  on  character,  rei)utation,  prospects.  Then  fol- 
lowed shame,  remorse,  recoil  from  the  presence  of  the  virtu- 
ous and  the  pure,  —  a  father's  grief,  a  mother's  tears. 

We  ask  the  tempter  and  the  tempted,  Will  such  an  abuse 
of  Christmas  and  New  Year's  pay? 


ARTICLES   FOR    THE   PRESS.  119 

Extracts  from  the  one  hundredth  anniversary  of  Dartmouth  College. 
By  a  graduate  of  1839. 

.  .  .  Other  teachers,  in  long  succession,  have  ceased  from 
their  labors.  But  the  outline,  aspects,  and  spirit  of  Nature, 
still  greet  the  former  graduate,  and  recut  in  his  memory  the 
lines  of  happier  years. 

But  I  must  not  forget  the  century-tree^  which  stands  an 
emerald  gem  in  the  landscape  of  Dartmouth.  The  charity 
that  projected  this  institution  was  touched  by  the  condition 
of  the  fugitive  children  of  the  forest.  It  would  follow  them 
into  their  own  wilderness  home.  The  feeling  was  well 
engraven  into  the  seal  of  the  institution  — "  Vox  clamantis 
in  deserto  "  ("The  voice  of  one  crying  in  the  Mdlderness"). 
Among  the  early  scholars  was  many  a  youthful  red  man. 
Three  young  Indians  about  to  graduate  were  accustomed  to 
meet  under  the  shadow  of  a  small  pine-tree,  back  of  the 
college  wall,  and  sing  the  touching  sentiments  of  the  hymn, 
composed  by  one  of  their  number  :^  — 

When  shall  we  three  meet  again ! 
"When  shall  we  three  meet  again ! 
Oft  shall  glowing  hope  expire, 
Oft  shall  wearied  love  retire, 
Oft  shall  death  and  sorrow  reign. 
Ere  we  three  shall  meet  again. 

When  our  burnished  locks  are  gray, 
Tliinned  by  many  a  toil-spent  day. 
When  around  this  youthful  pine 
Moss  shall  creep,  and  ivy  twine, 
Long  may  this  loved  bower  remain. 
Here  may  we  three  meet  again. 

This  early  incident  has  lent  enchantment  to  the  spot,  and 
it  is  a  j^leasing  feature  of  every  graduating  class,  that  they 
gather  about  this  century-pine  to  sing  their  parting  hymn. 

When  the  sons  of  Dartmouth,  after  their  long  absence, 
had  reviewed  what  Avas  permanent  and  what  was  changed 
in  the  scenery  around,  you  would  see  them  thronging  along 
the  avenues  to  the  old  lecture-halls,  or  looking  in  upon  the 

^  Kev.  Sampson  Occum,  author  of  "  Awaked  by  Sinai's  awful  sound." 


120  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

rooms  tlie}^  once  occupied.  Who  did  not  remember  the 
freshman  recitation-room,  the  first  meeting  of  the  cLass, 
^he  first  lesson !  The  phicc  snggestcd  the  name,  the  look, 
of  every  member.  Indeed,  so  vivid  was  the  past,  it  took 
a  moment's  reflection  to  realize  that  the  scene  lay  thirty 
years  ago. 

But  sadness  shaded  every  cheek  as  our  former  professors 
came  not  with  us.  It  was  evident  the  prophet  did  not  speak 
to  us.,  "  Though  the  Lord  give  you  the  bread  of  adversity 
and  the  water  of  affliction,  yet  shall  not  thy  teachers  be 
removed  into  a  corner,  but  thine  eyes  shall  behold  thy 
teachers."  Still  we  were  permitted  the  grateful  sight  of  Dr. 
Lord,  our  venerable  ex-president,  whom  we  remembered  as 
a  father.  His  health  permitted  him  only  to  bow  to  us  from 
the  window  of  his  sick-chamber. 

.  .  .  But,  of  all  the  interest  awakened  at  this  reunion, 
class-feeling  and  class-affinity  were  most  intense.  Hence,  on 
the  general  current  of  excitement,  you  would  see  eddies 
wliirling  off  one  side  or  the  other,  —  circles  formed  with  a 
four-years'  radius.  Go  into  the  chapel  or  recitation-rooms, 
and  vou  would  find  a  remnant  of  some  one  of  the  fifty  or 
sixty  classes,  formed  into  a  knot  of  delighted  listeners,  Avcep- 
ing  or  laughing  as  some  one  of  their  number  told  of  "the 
times  that  had  gone  over  him." 

I  was  especially  interested  in  the  class-meeting  of  1839. 
Judge  Dana  of  Concord  had  provided  himself  with  a  terse 
and  well-written  obituary  of  every  deceased  classmate.  With 
a  genuine  enthusiasm,  he  had  summoned  the  living  from  far 
and  near.  Thirty  years  had  sped  since  sixty-two  young  men 
went  from  these  halls  to  the  arena  of  life.  Twenty-three 
obeyed  the  call  to  return,  and  were  present  af  the  moment 
and  place  appointed.  When  we  came  to  look  one  another  in 
the  face,  it  was  evident  we  were  no  longer  young.  And,  as 
each  was  to  find  out  the  name  of  his  fellow  without  an  intro- 
duction, you  would  see  two  robust  men  holding  each  other 
by  the  hand  till  they  were  ashamed.  And  yet  neither  could 
catch  from  the  other  the  key  of  his  identity.  By  and  by  the 
brown  hue,  the  deep  wrinkle,  the  gray  hair,  would  cleave  off. 


ARTICLES   FOR    THE   PRESS.  121 

The  blink  of  the  eye,  the  j^outhful  expression,  the  lithe  form, 
would  steal  back.  Then  came  the  recognition,  the  embrace, 
the  tear,  the  laugh.  When  these  masks,  that  time  had  fixed 
upon  us,  Avere  torn  off,  and  we  were  convinced  we  were  the 
same  fellows  our  names  indicated,  we  sat  down  together  to 
an  evening  repast.  After  this,  began  "the  feast  of  reason 
and  tlie  flow  of  soul."  This,  I  think,  was  the  first  time  that 
any  social  entertainment  ever  beguiled  me  of  the  entire  night. 
But,  as  we  began  our  session,  the  sun  gilded  our  faces  with 
its  setting  beams,  and  its  morning  rays  smiled  in  upon  our 
continued  deliberations.  We  had  been  close  friends,  long 
separated,  —  had  come  great  distances.  It  was  our  last 
meeting.  There  was  much  to  say.  It  was  a  night  long  to 
be  remembered. 

Thirty  years  had  nourished  and  developed  the  seeds  sown 
in  our  academic  course.  Before  we  first  separated  from 
these  ancient  halls,  one  of  our  number,  a  true  seer,  had 
drawn  out  what,  according  to  his  forecast,  would  be  the 
future  of  each  of  his  fellows.  With  some  little  pruning,  and 
transposition  of  the  oracle,  the  review  not  only  proved  the 
author  actualized  as  a  judge,  but,  like  Samuel,  vindicated  as 
a  prophet.  According  to  the  prediction,  some  had  attained 
wealth  and  eminence  in  the  legal  and  medical  professions. 
Others  had  proved  themselves  leaders  in  political  life.  One 
had  been  an  ambassador  to  a  foreign  court.  Some  were  pro- 
fessors and  teachers,  —  one  a  president  of  a  college.  Seven- 
teen had  been  attracted  by  the  self-denials,  duties,  and 
rewards  of  the  gospel  ministry.  With  sad  and  pensive  hearts 
we  listened  to  the  obituaries  of  twentj^-one  who  had  passed 
the  bourne  from  which  no  thirtieth  or  hundredth  anniversary 
could  ever  call  them  back  —  twenty-one  hearts,  once  warm 
with  youthful  enthusiasm,  now  chilled  in  death ! 

"  Death  lies  on  them  like  an  untimely  frost." 

Beside  these  narratives  read  by  the  chairman,  short  and 
tender  recollections  of  others  closed  the  sad  memorial.  Re- 
grets at  the  absence  of  eighteen  brothers  were  modified  by 
the  letters  they  substituted  for  their  presence.     These  were 


122  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

weio-lity  with  sentiments  of  attachment  to  the  chiss  and 
college.  The  reading  of  these,  with  additional  intelligence 
from  those  present,  formed  a  pleasant  chapter  of  tlie  inter- 
view, from  which  we  passed  to  the  viva  voce  relations  of 
those  of  the  twenty-three  who  were  on  the  ground.  Con- 
trast added  to  the  rhetoric.  Lights  and  shades,  successes 
and  reverses,  victories  and  defeats,  incidents  mournful  and 
mirthful,  wove  with  lively  shuttle  the  variegated  web  of  our 
thirty-years'  history. 

Impressive  were  the  silent  thoughts  at  the  close.  Whose 
name  is  next  to  be  starred?  Who  will  survive  the  next 
thirty  years?  Where  shall  we  be  when  Dartmouth  has  her 
second  centennial? 

Those  who  could,  joined  in  the  hymn  "  Blest  be  the  tie 
that  binds."  The  benediction  was  pronounced,  and  each 
went  his  way. 

But  the  fine  frenzy  of  the  class  spirit  readily  expanded  into 
the  wider  circle  of  college  life  and  sympathy.  One  thousand 
of  the  sons  of  Dartmouth  had  heard  the  inviting  voice  of  the 
endeared  mother  of  us  all.  The  aged  and  the  youthful 
alumnus  had  been  cherished  on  the  same  ground,  by  the 
same  care.  Each  had  gone  the  same  round  of  studies,  sat  in 
the  same  recitation-rooms,  obeyed  the  same  bell,  gathered  in 
the  same  chapel  and  sanctuary.  We  had  been  out  to  prove 
our  armor,  and  were  now  looking  back  over  the  dust  and 
smoke  of  the  battle.  We  understood  each  other  perfectly. 
"  As  face  answereth  to  face  in  water,  so  the  heart  of  man  to 
man." 

The  chairman  of  the  alumni  was  the  chief  justice  of  the 
United  States.  After  a  genial  and  felicitous  welcome  from 
President  Smith,  Dr.  Brown,  President  of  Hamilton  College, 
presented  a  racy  and  comprehensive  history  of  Dartmouth 
from  its  founding.  Then  followed  able  discussions  by  distin- 
guished graduates.  The  relation  of  the  college  to  law,  to 
the  State,  to  science,  literature,  theology,  were  some  of  the 
themes  fit  and  profitable  for  the  occasion. 

The  next  day,  Tluirsday,  came  the  exercises  of  the  gradu- 
ating class.      To  many  present,  this  was   suggestive  of  an 


ARTICLES  FOR    THE  PRESS.  123 

interesting  day  in  their  own  experience.  Thirty  years  had 
brought  not  only  new  speakers,  but  a  new  audience.  Wliere 
were  tlie  president,  professors,  trustees,  of  our  day?  Wliere 
the  distinguished  visitors?  Where  the  sharp  profile  of  Isaac 
Hill,  the  eloquent  brow  of  Rufus  Choate,  the  great  eyes  of 
Daniel  Webster  ? 

Impressive  reflections  could  but  arise  from  the  review  of 
one  hundred  years.  Humble  hc<jinnings  may  increase  to  great 
results.  God's  greatest  works  grow  out  of  little  seeds.  The 
oak  of  a  hundred  winters,  that  has  struck  its  roots  in  the 
place  of  stones,  and  tosses  its  branches  to  the  storms,  began 
its  life  in  the  buried  acorn.  The  majestic  river,  on  whose 
bosom  is  floated  the  commerce  of  the  nation,  has  its  head- 
spring in  the  weeping  crevice  far  up  the  mountain  gorge. 
Dartmouth  College  was  a  germ  planted  in  the  wilderness; 
but  it  was  a  living  seed.  Ebenezer  Wheelock  was  an  ob- 
scure pastor  in  Lebanon,  Conn.,  a  close  friend  of  President 
Edwards.  His  salary  was  small,  and  poorly  paid.  To  eke 
out  a  precarious  support,  in  1754  he  opened  a  family  school 
for  boys.  Joshua  Moore,  a  farmer  of  Mansfield,  Conn.,  gave 
the  school  a  small  house  and  two  acres  of  land.  Among  the 
early  pupils  was  Sampson  Occum,  a  young  Indian  of  the 
Mohegan  tribe.  He  became  eminent  as  a  missionary  and 
preacher.  In  176G  he  went  abroad  to  solicit  funds  for 
Moore's  Indian  Charity  School.  The  good  people  of  England 
and  Scotland  were  glad  to  see  such  a  specimen  of  the  sons  of 
the  forest.  He  preached  to  large  audiences.  He  dined  with 
the  King,  and  received  from  him  two  hundred  pounds.  He 
collected  in  all  seven  thousand  pounds. 

This  encouraged  Dr.  Wheelock  to  change  his  base,  and 
enlarge  the  place  of  his  tent.  Through  the  influence  of 
John  Wentworth,  provincial  governor  of  New  Hampshire,  he 
removed  the  school  into  the  deep  wilderness,  on  the  banks 
of  the  Connecticut.  Dr.  Wheelock  records  in  his  journal : 
"I  built  a  hut  of  logs,  about  eighteen  feet  square,  Avithout 
stone,  or  brick,  or  glass,  or  nails."  This  was  the  first  presi- 
dential mansion.  In  September  the  family  of  Dr.  Wheelock 
were  borne  to  the  new  settlement,  and  thirty  students  fol- 


124  REV.   HORACE   EATON,   D.D. 

lowed,  one  Inmdred  and  seventy  miles,  on  foot.  "Again," 
says  the  first  })iesident,  "I  housed  myself,  with  my  wife  and 
the  other  females  of  my  family,  in  my  hut.  My  sons  and 
students  made  booths  of  hemlock-boughs;  and  in  this  situa- 
tion we  continued  about  a  luonth,  till  the  29th  of  October, 
when  I  removed  into  my  log-house.  Soon  two  saw-mills 
were  built  and  driven  by  students,  often  working  the  live- 
long night  to  earn  money  to  defray  their  expenses.  Some 
drove  a  cow,  and  brought  corn  from  home,  that  they  might 
have  bread  and  milk.  Daniel  Webster  said  he  came  to 
Dartmouth  in  a  homespun  suit  of  indigo-blue.  Exposed  to 
drenching  rains,  he  too  was  dyed  from  head  to  foot.  This 
was  ever  the  favorite  color  of  his  dress. 

The  first  Commencement  was  in  August,  1771.  Four 
students  graduated,  one  of  whom  wrote  a  poem,  which  closes 
with  the  following  lines  :  — 

"  Thus  Dartnioutli,  happy  in  her  sylvan  seat, 
Drinks  the  pure  pleasures  of  her  fair  retreat; 
Her  songs  of  praise  in  notes  melodious  rise, 
Like  clouds  of  incense,  to  the  listening  skies; 
Her  God  protects  her  with  paternal  care, 
From  ills  destructive  and  each  fatal  snare  ; 
And  may  He  still  protect,  and  she  adore. 
Till  heaven  and  earth  and  time  shall  be  no  more." 

The  review  of  one  hundred  years  can  but  excite  the  excla- 
mation, "What  hath  God  wrought!  A  little  one  has  become 
a  thousand,  and  a  small  one  a  strong  nation." 

We  have  also  in  this  review  an  illustration  of  tlie  text, 
"  Thet/  who  honor  me  I  will  honor.'"  The  beginnings  of 
Dartmouth  College  were  too  obscure  to  invite  the  patronage 
of  the  proud.  It  grcAv  by  their  neglect.  An  obscure  minis- 
ter of  Jesus,  inspired  by  love  of  the  children  of  the  forest, 
conceived  the  thought.  In  the  charter  I  read,  "The  college 
was  founded  for  the  spread  of  the  knowledge  of  the  great 
Redeemer  among  the  Indian  tribes,  for  the  education  of 
Indian  and  English  youth."  With  the  very  oi)ening,  this 
institution  received  the  smile  of  Heaven.  The  Holy  Spirit 
put  His  seal  upon  the  first  classes  and  the  surrounding  fami- 


ARTICLES   FOR    THE   PRESS.  125 

lies.     In  1773  the  president  writes,  "  That  wliich  crowns  all 
is  the  manifest  tokens  of  the  gracious  presence  of  God.     Such 
contentment  and  joy  reign  in  the  college,  that  no  govern- 
ment seems  necessary.     All  are  diligent  and  orderly.     For 
three  years,  I  have  not  heard  a  profane  word  spoken,  neither 
have  I  reason    to   think  there  has  been  one  spoken."     The 
erection  and  administration  of  this  institution  has  been  to 
invite  the  presence  and  blessing  of  the  Divine  Spirit.    Multi- 
tudes of  young  men  earnest  for  human  learning  have  here 
been  made  wise   unto  salvation.      Men   like   Dr.   Porter  of 
Catskill,  the  judicious  and  indefatigable  Dr.  Hyde  of  Lee, 
Spaulding  of  Ceylon,   Goodell  and  Temple,  and  others  in 
different  spheres,  have  been  instrumental  of  conducting  to 
eternal  glory  a  great  throng  of  redeemed  men  in  many  lands. 
Go  and  gaze  upon  the  humble  slab  of  the  first  president. 
In  the  midst  of  his  self-denying  labors,  he  said,  "  It  is  my 
purpose,   by  the  grace   of   God,  to  leave  nothing  undone." 
Look  now  at  the  harvest  of  the  little  seed  he  sowed  in  the 
wilderness.  .  .  . 


CHAPTER  VII. 

'      LAST  TEN  YEARS   OF   THE    PASTORATE   AT  PALJIYRA. 

1S69-1879. 

TWENTY-FIFTH  ANNIVERSARY  OF  SETTLEMENT  IN  PAKNIYRA. 

—  TRAVELS   IN   THE   EAST. LECTURE.  —  INFLUENCE    OF 

MOHAMMEDANISM   UPON   EDUCATION.  —  LETTERS. 

The  twenty-fifth  anniversary  of  Dr.  Eaton's  .settlement  in  PalmjTa 
was  celebrated  Feb.  5,  1874.  We  regret  that  want  of  space  compels  a 
mere  reference  to  so  happy  an  occasion.  Nothing  was  left  undone  that 
affection,  taste,  and  the  noblest  generosity  could  devise,  to  make  the  day 
one  long  to  be  remembered  with  the  sincerest  gratitude  by  the  pastor 
and  his  family. 

From  the  ''  'Wayne  County  Journal "  of  Feb.  12,  1S74,  we  glean  the 
following :  — 

"  The  expiration  of  twenty-five  years  of  Dr.  Eaton's  pastorate  over  the 
Presbyterian  Church  of  Palmyra  is  an  event  so  memorable  in  the  religious 
history  of  this  community,  that  an  extended  reference  to  the  same,  it  is 
believed,  will  gratify  our  readers. 

"An  additional  interest  is  added  to  the  event  by  the  departnre  of  Dr. 
Eaton  upon  a  tour  of  Egypt  and  the  Holy  Land,  to  be  of  several  months' 
duration. 

"  At  the  last  Sunday  evening  service  before  leaving,  he  referred  to  his 
intended  journey,  saying,  that,  at  the  suggestion  of  friends,  he  had 
carefully  considered  the  matter,  and  had  finally  concluded  to  make  the 
trip ;  that  he  was  not  sick  ;  he  was  thankful  to  his  Master  that  his 
health  was  good.  He  thought  the  journey  would  refresh  and  help  him, 
would  give  him  new  thoughts,  new  subjects  and  illustrations,  and  that 
he  would  return  a  more  useful  pastor  to  the  church  with  which  he  was 
connected.  In  closing  the  sermon,  which  was  one  of  great  interest,  he 
requested  the  prayers  of  the  people  for  himself,  and  their  liearty  co-opera- 
tion with  the  young  preacher  ^  who  was  to  supply  the  church  during  his 
absence,  and  aslced  tliat  his  congregation  constitute  themselves,  so  to 
speak,  a  committee  of  the  wliole,  to  watch  over  the  spiritual  interests  of 

1  Rev.  L.  H.  Morey. 


TRAVELS  IN   THE  EAST.  127 

his  charge.  He  commended  to  their  kindness  the  sick  of  the  congregation, 
the  young  people's  meetings,  and  the  Sabbath-school,  with  great  tender- 
ness, closing  the  service  with  those  beautiful  words  of  benediction : 
*  The  Lord  bless  thee  and  keep  thee.  The  Lord  make  His  face  shine 
upon  thee,  and  be  gracious  unto  thee.  The  Lord  lift  up  His  countenance 
upon  thee,  and  give  thee  peace.'  .  .  . 

"  The  exercises  of  Thursday  occupied  the  entire  afternoon  and  evening. 
A.  P.  Crandall,  Esq.,  was  the  presiding  officer.  Invocation  by  Rev.  H. 
Wheat  of  the  Baptist  Church,  reading  of  Scripture  by  Rev.  J.  G. 
AV'ebster  of  the  Episcopal  Church,  prayer  by  Rev.  B.  11.  Brown  of  the 
Methodist  Church,  reading  of  letters  from  invited  friends  by  H.  R. 
Durfee,  Esq.,  address  of  congratulation  by  G.  G.  Jessup,  Esq.,  reply 
by  Dr.  Eaton.  Special  presentations  were  then  made  to  the  pastor  by 
Messrs.  M.  B.  Riggs,  F.  Williams,  and  S.  B.  Mclntyre,  Esq.  Dr.  Eaton 
briefly  returned  thanks  for  these  many  evidences  of  affectionate  regard. 
Addresses  followed  by  Rev.  F.  A.  Spencer,  an  old  classmate.  Rev.  W.  L. 
Page  of  Wolcott,  Rev.  J.  Butler  of  Fairport,  Rev.  Dr.  J.  S.  Bacon  of 
Corning,  Professor  Boyd  of  Geneva,  and  Rev.  Dr.  J.  R.  Page  of  Roches- 
ter. Mr.  W.  S.  Scolield  had  charge  of  the  music.  Under  the  magical 
touch  of  the  ladies  of  the  congregation,  the  interior  of  the  church  was 
made  to  blossom  like  the  summer  time,  notwithstanding  the  snow  of 
winter  lay  without.  The  mottoes  were  significant  and  touching;  the 
collation  in  the  evening  choice  and  abundant. 

"  About  ten  o'clock  Dr.  Eaton  retired  from  the  company.  The  mid- 
night train  bore  him  to  New  York ;  and  never  did  a  person  leave  this 
station  with  such  an  immense  amount  of  uncheckable  baggage  as  the 
doctor :  it  consisted  principally  of  blessings,  tearful  good-bys,  and  God- 
speed-you's. 

"A  friend  writes  us  from  New  York,  '  I  saw  Dr.  Eaton  leave  pier  No. 
20,  North  River,  yesterday.     As  the  steamer  left  the  dock,  he  recognized 
me,  and  raising  his  hat  said,  "  Good-by,  Palmyra."     His  last  thoughts 
were  of  his  home,  and  his  last  word  on  this  side  of  the  ocean,  Palmyra.' " 
"  Speed  thee,  pastor,  on  thy  way 
To  the  land  the  Saviour  trod  ; 
Speed  thee  on  o'er  land  and  main, 
'Neath  the  banner  of  our  God. 

"  He  will  cover  thee  with  wings, 

And  '  His  truth  shall  be  thy  shield,'  — 
Truth  which  thou  hast  long  declared, 
And  shalt  still  in  conquest  wield. 

"  He  will  be  thy  sure  defence, 

And  thy  pathway  hedge  about, 


128  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 


Yea,  preserve  thy  coming-in, 
Even  as  thy  going-out."  ^ 


Although  the  footprints  of  travel  are  now  everywhere  well  worn,  we 
introduce  a  few  letters  and  extracts  from  lectures. 

Snip  Califorxia,  Feb.  13,  1874. 
50^  North  Latitude.     One  thousand  miles  from  Glasgow. 

Boat  cold  Jis  a  liulk,  deck  covered  with  snow,  air  fall  of 
frost,  harbor  full  of  ice ;  but  kind  hearts  and  faces  cheered 
me  as  I  moved  away  from  my  native  shore.  The  chill  winds 
and  breaking  waves  of  Saturday  were  a  poor  preparation  for 
the  Sabbath  day.  I  did  not  say,  "  Blot  the  day  from  the 
calendar,"  —  that  cannot  be  done,  —  peculiar  worship  :  the 
naked  deck  ;  old  ocean  the  preacher ;  hymns  by  the  moaning 
winds;  gulls,  a  vacant,  hungry  audience;  my  first  Sabbath  at 
sea  a  strange  day ;  my  first  meal  Monday  evening.  Away 
with  all  vapors  of  food,  away  with  the  call  of  the  bell :  they 
were  an  offence  to  the  soul. 

But  the  cold  as  we  climbed  to  the  frozen  north,  the  night 
we  spent  in  the  field  of  Labrador  ice,  the  gale  that  lashed 
the  ocean  into  a  foaming  fury, — these  have  shown  me  the 
rough  side  of  an  ocean  voyage.  .  .  . 

I  have  found  Christ  with  me  in  the  ship.    The  nights  have 

been  terrible,  but  all  the  more  profitable.     My  health  and 

spirits  are   good,   and  I  hope   to  make   the  most  of   every 

opportunity.     The  missionary  company  are  very  congenial. 

We  have  worship  every  day.     The  captain  and  officers  are 

courteous.     The  ship  is  a  gem  of  the  sea.     She  is  true.     To 

me  she  has  a  blessed  personality.     I  trust  her  and  the  Great 

Master.  .  .  . 

Paris,  Feb.  23,  1874. 

My  dear  Wife,  —  Saturday,  in  the  forenoon,  I  came  to 
Paris.  .  .  .  Awoke  yesterday  morning,  and  as  I  looked  I 
inquired  if  I  had  forgotten  the  day  of  the  week.  Men  were 
at  their  games,  pleasure,  work,  just  as  though  God  had  not 
said, "  Remember  the  Sabbath  day  to  keep  it  holy.".  .  .  This 
Paris  is  a  mystery,  —  churches  forsaken,  theatres  crowded  on 

1  By  C.  B.  Botsford,  a  parishioner  of  Dr.  Eaton  in  1852-53. 


TRAVELS  IN   THE   EAST.  129 

the  Sabbath,  pleasure  the  divinity,  God  entirely  ignored,  and 

yet  for  beauty  and  splendor  surpassing   all   places    of   the 

earth.  ,  .  . 

Naples,  March  5,  1874. 

Deak  young  Friends  of  the  Sabbath-school,  —  It 
is  just  one  month  since  you  so  generously  sent  me  on  my 
journey.  I  am  now  more  than  five  thousand  miles  from 
home.  I  gratefully  acknowledge  the  good  hand  of  God 
that  has  granted  me  health,  and  kept  me  from  harm.  I 
have  crossed  the  ocean,  passed  from  Glasgow  to  London, 
from  London  to  Paris,  from  Paris  to  Florence,  from  Florence 
to  Rome,  and  from  Rome  to  this  place.  My  journey  has 
been  so  rapid,  I  have  been  so  eager  to  see  and  save  what  I 
could  while  on  the  ground,  that  I  have  found  little  time  to 
write  letters  home.  I  will  snatch  a  moment  tliis  morning, 
before  I  go  to  Pompeii  and  Herculaneum,  and  climb  to  Vesu- 
vius, to  tell  you  where  I  am.  I  was  a  little  more  than  four 
days  in  Rome.  I  cannot  say  as  Caesar,  "I  came,  I  saw,  I 
conquered  ;  "  but  I  can  say,  "  I  saw  all  I  could." 

We  think  a  house  old  that  was  built  a  hundred  years  ago. 
You  cannot  find  such  a  house  in  Wayne  County.  But  in 
Rome  a  house  is  among  the  new  structures  if  it  cannot  num- 
ber three,  four,  or  six  hundred  years.  St.  Peter's  Church 
was  thirteen  hundred  years  in  building,  and  was  consecrated 
more  than  two  hundred  years  ago  ;  but  that  is  not  old.  The 
aqueduct  that  Cladius  built  commands  some  respect  for  its 
age.  The  Roman  palace  where  Paul  was  condemned,  the 
house  he  hired,  the  wall  that  Trajan  built,  still  more  the  pil- 
lars brought  from  Egypt,  and  the  wall  of  Romulus,  —  these 
have  the  moss  that  excited  our  wonder.  I  rode  to  the  city 
and  bay  of  Puteoli,  where  Paul  left  shipboard  for  the  Appian 
Way  when  taken  as  a  prisoner  to  Rome,  (Acts  28  :  13,  14). 
Here  I  could  see  the  harbor  he  entered  and  the  road  he  trav- 
eled. "At  Puteoli  he  found  brethren  who  desired  him  to 
tarry  with  them  seven  days."  Near  tliis  bay  are  still  seen 
the  remains  of  an  old  volcano,  also  the  ruins  of  splendid 
temples  of  Jupiter,  Diana,  Mercury,  and  Venus,  a  villa  of 
Cicero,  a  palace  of  Julius  Ceesar ;  and  a  vast  amphitheatre, 


180  REV.    HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

where  wild  beasts  fought  with  gladiators,  and  devoured  Chris- 
tians. These  were  all  in  their  glory  Avhen  Paul  the  prisoner 
sojourned  a  week  among  his  poor  brethren  at  Puteoli  and 
Naples,  lie  heard  the  rumblings,  and  beheld  the  glare,  of 
these  volcanoes.  He  viewed  the  residences  of  the  great  men 
of  ancient  Rome.  He  saw  the  multitudes  "wholly  given  to 
idolatry."  Perhaps  he  looked  in  upon  the  temples,  the  ruins 
of  which  aAvaken  my  admiration.  He  heard  the  scream  of 
the  multitude,  the  growl  of  the  lion,  as  human  sacrilices 
"  made  a  Roman  holiday  "  in  the  amphitheatre  at  Puteoli. 
He  felt  the  beauty  and  magnificence  of  Nature,  as  they  com- 
bine and  intensify  around  this  Bay  of  Naples.  I  Avill,  if  pos- 
sible, Avrite  you  from  Alexandria,  for  which  I  soon  sail  from 
this  port.  Yours  gratefully, 

HoKACE  Eaton. 

At  Sea,  off  "  the  coast  of  Libya,  about  Cyrene,"  March  12,  1874. 

My  dear  Wife,  —  Until  to-day  I  had  not  entirely  escaped 
the  cold  weather  that  pursued  me  across  the  Atlantic.  Even 
at  Rome  and  Naples  I  suffered  from  a  raw  and  unpleasant 
wind.  But  now  I  find  myself  in  an  African  clime,  and  a 
bland  June  morning  smiles  upon  a  sea  of  glass.  Last  even- 
ing the  sun  retired  to  rest  in  robes  of  the  purest  gold.  I 
saw  him  rise  in  the  same  habiliments  unsoiled.  While  I 
listen  to  the  noisy  jabber  of  the  Italians  all  around  me,  to 
the  conversation  of  a  family  of  Arabs,  to  the  French  and 
Germans  in  their  turn,  and  find  myself  shut  up  to  a  few 
English  friends,  I  realize  more  than  ever  how  great  was  the 
confusion  of  tongues  visited  at  Babel.  But,  if  I  must  be 
confined  to  one  language,  I  am  glad  it  is  English.  .  .  . 

We  passed  along  the  straits  between  Sicily  and  the  niain- 
laiul,  and  noticed  Syracuse,  where  Paul  remained  three  days, 
and  also,  on  the  other  hand,  Rhegium,  where  he  stopped  for  a 
time.  We  have  coasted  along  the  shore  of  Crete,  wliere  at 
least  four  places  are  noted  in  Paul's  voyage.  Indeed,  the 
name,  travels,  and  suffering  of  the  great  apostle,  add  a  tinge 
of  interest  to  the  skies  above  and  to  the  deep  beneath,  to 
the  mountains  he  looked  upon,  to  the  towns  where  he  labored. 


TRAVELS  IN   THE  EAST.  131 

and  the  prisons  where  he  suffered.  Consider  the  influence  of 
one  great  and  good  man.  He  has  left  his  mark,  not  merely 
on  innumerable  living  hearts,  but  a  charm  on  the  very  fields 
of  Nature  where  he  moved.  Voyagers  through  the  Mediter- 
ranean Sea  should  not  forget  the  name  of  Paul. 

Cairo,  Egypt,  March  15,  1874. 

.  .  .  Saturday,  at  two  in  the  afternoon,  we  took  the  cars  for 
Cairo.  No  traveler  can  afford  to  pass  over  this  road  in  the 
night,  or  with  his  eyes  shut.  The  railway  at  first  was  nearly 
parallel  with  the  canal.  I  saw  a  boat  gliding  along  up  stream, 
drawn  by  neither  horses,  steam,  nor  wind.  "  What,"  I  said, 
"urges  that  craft  along?"  Said  my  fellow-traveler,  "Do 
you  not  see  those  two  Arabs  ahead  on  the  tow-path?"  Then 
I  learned  that  men  did  the  work  on  this  canal  that  horses  do 
on  ours.  There  were  fields  of  leeks  and  onions,  and  I  remem- 
bered those  for  which  the  Egyptians  longed.  The  method  of 
raising  water  by  a  wheel  turned  by  the  foot  cleared  up  the 
word  of  Moses :  "  Thou  waterest  the  land  by  thy  foot." 

We  came  at  length  to  the  east  branch  of  the  Nile.  I  con- 
fess to  a  thrill  of  uncommon  interest  as  I  looked  upon  that 
ancient  river.  I  cannot  describe  the  mud-walled  houses  and 
mud-walled  villages  we  j^assed,  the  sights  and  sounds  as  the 
evening  shadows,  falling  on  the  landscape,  called  the  laborers, 
and  their  donkeys,  oxen,  and  camels,  home  from  their  work, 
and  the  shepherds,  with  sheep  and  goats  mixed  together,  back 
to  their  folds.  I  cannot  describe  the  tall  and  feathery-crowned 
palm-trees  that  adorn  the  liabitations  of  the  rich,  or  stand 
singly  against  the  sky.  All  is  Oriental,  and  suggestive  of 
years  and  nations  long  gone  by.  I  am  reading  the  lines  of 
the  Arab  character.  There  is  mind,  strength ;  but  they  are 
idle,  sluggish.  They  will  ride  upon  a  poor  donkey  when 
they  ought  to  go  afoot  and  carry  the  load  themselves.  They 
lie  stretched  along  the  mud  walls,  and  talk  and  smoke,  and 
smoke  and  talk.  ...  I  tried  to  keep  the  Sabbath  yesterday. 
But  oh,  these  Eastern  cities  !  I  ought  to  fear  for  myself,  for 
the  fear  of  God  is  not  in  this  place.  I  found  a  Protestant 
chapel,  where  I  enjoyed  the  reading  of  the  Word  and  the 


132  REV.   HORACE   EATON,   D.D. 

worship  of  the  Lord  God  of  Israel  under  the  shadow  of  the 
mosque,  and  surrounded  by  all  kinds  of  profanity.  But 
Egypt  I  how  full  of  all  that  illustrates  the  Bible  and  the 
providence  of  God !  .  .  . 

From  a  familiar  lecture  on  Egj^pt. 

Five  days  from  Naples,  and  thirty-five  from  New  York, 
brought  me  to  the  coast  of  Africa.  When  eighteen  miles 
from  Alexandria,  the  word  "  Land ! "  from  the  lips  of  Bayard 
Taylor,  summoned  all  on  deck.  The  memory  and  the  eye 
of  that  practiced  traveler  outran  all  others  as  we  eagerly 
gazed  toward  the  low  and  sunken  coast.  Soon,  however,  a 
speck  was  seen  in  the  distant  horizon.  It  proved  the  top  of 
Pompey's  Pillar ;  after  this  appeared  the  liglithouse  standing 
upon  the  spot  of  the  ancient  Pharos,  then  Cleopatra's  Needle, 
then  forty  windmills  to  the  right,  stretching  along  the  Libyan 
shore,  and  fniuUy  the  whole  city  of  Alexandria  rising  out  of 
the  sea.  A  few  miles  from  port  v/e  were  met  by  the  pilot, 
an  athletic  Arab,  and  his  servant.  Soon  he  Avas  alongside, 
then  on  deck,  then  at  the  helm.  He  was  the  first  full-grown 
Arab  I  had  ever  seen.  He  guided  us  through  a  difficult  pas- 
sacje  to  the  harbor.  Then  came  the  din  of  voices  and  the 
babel  of  tongues,  and  a  strife  and  violence  among  the  boat- 
men, wliich  threatened  to  scatter  our  baggage,  and  tear  us 
limb  from  limb.  But,  in  the  moment  of  our  confusion  and 
peril,  the  captain  appeared,  beating  and  breaking  his  way 
among  the  invaders,  driving  them  down  the  sides  of  the  ship, 
and  handing  us  over  for  protection  to  tlie  agents  appointed 
to  conduct  us  to  the  Hotel  De  I'Europe.  When  on  shore, 
we  were  in  anotlier  melee.  Shaved  donkeys,  half-naked 
drivers,  burdened  camels,  crowded  bazaars,  shoemakers'  shops, 
blacksmiths'  shops,  all  kinds  of  trades  carried  on  in  the  street 
or  in  small  rooms  without  doors,  tliat  open  into  the  street, — 
so  new,  Oi'iental,  dismal,  all  this,  that  I  felt  the  word  of  the 
Psalmist,  "  Woe  is  me  that  I  sojourn  in  Mesech,  and  dwell  in 
the  tents  of  Kedar."  Kedar  was  one  of  the  sons  of  Ishmael. 
Like  David,  I  was  with  the  Arabs,  the  sons  of  Ishmael.  It 
is  the  surprised  thought  of  the  traveler,  Is  this  "  the  land  of 


TRAVELS  IN   THE  EAST,  183 

the  East,  tlio  clime  of  the  sun  "  ?  —  this  the  spot  which  the 
great  Macedonian  general  and  Napoleon  I.  pronounced  the 
centre  of  Eastern  commerce  ?  Did  the  learning  of  the  world 
here  shed  her  mild  and  hallowed  rays,  and  treasure  the  lore 
in  libraries,  the  wonder  of  the  world  ?  Was  this  the  city  of 
fashion  where  Cleopatra  conquered  her  victors,  and  by  sui- 
cide ended  her  brilliant  infamy  ?  Was  this  the  seat  of  Chris- 
tian schools  and  Christian  philosophy?  the  birthplace  of  the 
eloquent  Apollos?  and  in  more  recent  times  was  it  near 
this  place  that  Nelson  achieved  the  victory  of  the  Nile,  and 
gave  to  England  dominion  of  the  sea  and  of  the  empire  of 
the  East?  But  a  view  of  our  own  stars  and  stripes  flying  at 
masthead  in  the  harbor,  a  walk  in  the  European  quarter  of 
the  city,  where  Englishmen  and  Germans  hold  up  the  light 
of  civilization,  a  visit  to  the  missionary  schools,  to  Christian 
churches,  availed  greatly  to  allay  the  wildness  of  the  scene. . .  . 

Egypt  is  the  strangest  countrj^  on  earth.  It  has  wonder- 
ful protection  from  the  two  great  deserts.  A  chain  of  moun- 
tains is  a  wall,  on  either  side,  against  the  sand-storms  that 
sweep  the  deserts  on  the  east  and  the  west.  These  protect- 
ing ranges  crowd  upon  a  long  and  narrow  valley,  some  eight 
hundred  miles  in  length,  and  on  an  average  not  more  than 
seven  wide. 

Egypt  is  peculiar  in  its  soil.  The  alluvial  soil  of  most 
countries  is  formed  by  the  growth  and  decay  of  vegetation 
on  the  spot ;  but  that  of  Egyj)t  is  robbed  from  the  interior 
of  Africa.  These  fertile  acres  come  over  the  cataracts.  The 
hand  of  man  has  never  replenished  them  with  any  fertilizing 
material.  They  receive  yearly  an  enriching  substance  from 
the  Nile. 

The  river  of  Egypt  is  the  strangest  in  the  world.  The 
streams  of  other  countries  are  fed  by  the  lands  through 
which  they  pass  ;  but  the  Nile  brings  its  watery  treasures 
from  afar.  "It  gives,  but  borrows  none."  For  a  thousand 
miles  it  has  not  a  tributary ;  but  on  either  side  there  are 
multitudes  of  channels  drawing  from  its  enriching  fountains. 
It  brings  down  more  from  its  head-springs  than  it  pours  into 
the  sea.     It  is  wonderful  for  the  delicious  beverage  which  it 


134  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

affords  for  man  and  beast.  It  is  liquid  healtli.  Says  Mr. 
Thomas  Cook,  the  veteran  traveler,  "  The  water  of  the  Nile 
is  the  best  I  ever  drank.  The  Khedive  of  Egj-pt,  when  he 
visited  Europe,  carried  it  with  him  by  the  caskful.  There 
is  no  necessity  for  spirituous  liquor  in  Egypt."  "  What !  " 
said  a  Roman  veteran  to  his  legions,  "Avhat!  crave  you 
wine,  and  have  the  water  of  the  Nile  to  drink !  " 

The  agriculture  of  Egypt  is  remarkable.  It  is  a  land  with- 
out rain.  Were  it  not  for  the  Nile,  its  fields  would  be  like 
the  neighboring  wastes.  The  river  fills  the  larger  channels, 
and  the  larger  the  smaller,  and  so  the  water  flows  from  one 
to  another  till  the  little  rills,  the  trickling  drops,  come  to 
every  blade  of  grass,  every  spire  of  wheat.  The  Nile  spreads 
greenness  over  the  whole  country.  From  the  Nile  are  the 
full  granaries :  '^  Fat  kine  go  up  out  of  the  river."  Herds 
of  cattle,  flocks  of  sheep,  hundreds  of  horses,  feed  in  the 
valley  watered  by  the  Nile.  The  periodic  overflow  of  the 
Nile  is  a  yearly  miracle.  By  its  dominion  of  a  hundred  days, 
the  reservoirs  are  filled,  the  soil  dressed  anew.  At  the  cata- 
racts it  rises  forty  feet,  at  Cairo  twenty-five,  at  the  mouth 
four.  How  wonderful  "the  balancing  of  the  clouds"  on  the 
mountains  in  the  interior  of  Africa,  to  secure  to  Egypt  this 
yearly  gift  with  such  certainty  and  accuracy ! 

Egypt  is  marvelous  for  its  relics  of  antiquity.  She  is  the 
very  mother  of  Paganism,  the  fruitful  parent  of  idolatries, 
and  from  the  very  nature  of  her  climate  she  has  proved  the 
safest  receptacle  for  the  records  and  memorials  of  the  old 
monarchies.  Time  has  two  teeth  by  which  he  etches  away 
the  works  of  men,  —  moisture  and  frost.  Neither  of  these 
are  found  in  Egypt.  The  depositories  there  have  preserved 
for  five  thousand  years  the  writings,  images,  paintings,  of  the 
ancients,  their  stone  pyramids  and  sculptured  marbles.  The 
learning  of  the  world  is  now  intent  upon  exhuming,  exca- 
vating, translating,  the  treasures  from  the  mummy-pits  and 
buried  temples  of  Egypt.  Acres  of  the  papyrus  scrolls 
remain  untranslated.  The  traveler  can  but  notice  the  differ- 
ence between  the  statues  of  the  Greeks  and  those  of  the 
Egyptians.     The  modern  Greek  is  the  same  handsome  crea- 


TRAVELS  IN   THE  EAST. 


135 


ture  that  he  was  in  the  time  of  the  Venus  de  Medici  or 
Apollo  Belvidere.  His  ancient  statuary  and  present  race 
still  agree  in  feature.  Just  so  with  the  Egyptians.  Not- 
withstanding the  immigrations  into  Egypt,  the  statues  four 
thousand  years  old  present  the  same  line  of  thought  and  feel- 
ing, the  same  stolid  imperturbability,  as  the  living  Egpytian. 
.  .'^'.  In  silent  and  awful  grandeur  the  Pyramids  stand  off  in 
a  solitude  some  five  miles  from  the  Nile,  on  a  plateau  of 
rock.  Nearly  one  hundred  of  these  can  be  traced  in  that 
graveyard  of  the  nation.  The  Great  Pyramid  occupies  thir- 
teen acres  and  a  rood,  reaching  480  feet  in  height.  The 
hardest  thing  I  did  while  away  was  to  climb  to  the  top,  and 
explore  the  interior. 

The  following  paragraphs  will  reveal  on  which  side  Dr.  Eaton  ranged 
himself  in  the  bloodless  "battle  of  the  Pyramids "  now  going  on. 

The  Great-Pyramid  is  before  you,  — huge,  soHd,  mys- 
terious in  its  age,  the  eldest,  most  massive  work  of  human 
hands,  permanent,  simple,  awful  in  its  expense  of  human 
sinews  and  human   life.      There   it   stands,  grand,  gloomy, 

peculiar ! 

The  mind  staggers  with  doubt  as  to  the  real  intention  the 
Great  Pyramid  was  built  to  subserve.  ...  A  more  reason- 
able conjecture  makes  the  Great  Pyramid  a  great  tomb, 
symhoUc  of  Egyptian  ideas  of  immortality.  They  had  strong 
thoughts  of  the  future  state.  On  their  coffins  they  represent 
the  soul  of  man  in  another  world,  under  the  image  of  a  reaper 
gathering  with  his  sickle  the  harvest  of  his  deeds  here  on 
earth.  The  Pyramids  were  exponents  of  these  ideas,  in 
Avhich  we  may  trace  a  shadow,  at  least,  of  the  Christian  doc- 
trine of  the  resurrection.  They  connected  the  future  life  of 
the  soul  with  the  preservation  of  the  body.  Could  they  hold 
back  from  decay  this  earthly  frame  for  three  thousand  years, 
then,  thought  they,  would  come  a  union  of  body  and  soul, 
and,  blessed  in  the  embrace,  they  would  pass  into  the  sphere 
of  the  gods.  In  their  idea,  every  thing  in  the  future 
depended  upon  the  preservation  of  the  body.  From  this  doc- 
trine came  the  rock-ribbed  tombs,  and  perfection  in  the  art 


13G  REV.   HORACE   EATON,   D.D. 

of  einbaluiing.  It  put  the  future  of  every  man  more  or  less 
at  the  mercy  of  his  enemies.  Should  hatred  to  a  man  hold 
on  after  his  death,  could  his  enemy  violate  his  body,  he  could 
spread  darkness  over  his  iunnortality. 

It  was  then  the  problem  of  tyrants,  after  enslaving  the 
people,  to  protect  their  royal  frames  from  popular  rage  when 
they  were  dead,  to  secure  peace  to  their  ashes  Avhen  they 
had"  passed  to  the  realms  of  shade.  The  huge  and  sealed 
sarcophagus  held  the  body  of  the  sovereign,  and  the  huge 
mausoleum  held  the  sarcophagus,  and  all  to  insure  safety  to 
the  hallowed  corse.  It  was  not  simply  the  vanity  of  life 
carried  into  the  grave,  but  the  fear  of  retribution  from  their 
oppressed  subjects,  who  might  take  sweet  revenge  upon  their 
monarch  when  dead,  and,  by  disturbing  the  repose  of  his 
body,  rob  his  soul  of  blessedness  forever ;  for  here,  "  after 
death  came  the  judgment." 

In  the  oldest  book  I  find  allusions  to  this  oldest  work  of 
man.  Says  Job,  "  Then  had  I  been  at  rest  with  kings  and 
counsellors  of  the  earth,  who  built  desolate  places" — pyra- 
iiiicls  —  "  for  themselves."  What  more  "  desolate  "  than  that 
stone  coffin  iu  that  solitary  room  in  that  immense  stone 
structure  of  thirteen  acres !  And  they  built  them  for  '^them- 
selves,"—  not  for  the  common  burial-place,  the  public  good, 
but  for  "  themselves."  The  "  man  of  Uz  "  had  doubtless  heard 
of,  perhaps  seen,  the  Pyramid.  He  Avas  acquainted  with 
Moses,  and  Moses  was  brought  up  under  the  shadow  of  the 
Pyramid.  Some  think  that  Moses  was  the  amanuensis  of 
Job.  Jeremiah,  who  was  driven  as  a  prisoner  to  Egypt,  also 
speaks  of  "signs  and  wonders  in  the  land  of  Egypt,  even 
unto  this  day  "  ;  and  in  Lamentations,  which  are  sup]:)Osed  to 
have  been  written  by  Jeremiah  in  Egypt,  he  says,  "  He  hath 
set  me  in  dark  places,  as  they  that  be  dead  of  old." 

Near  the  (Jreat  Pyramid  is  the  Sphinx,  hewn  out  of  the 
solid,  living  rock,  180  feet  long.  ...  It  is  nearly  buried  by 
the  sand  ;  but  the  head  and  neck  still  stand  up  some  60  feet 
as  it  looks  out  calmly  over  the  valley  of  the  Nile,  on  whose 
borders  it  has  stood  sentinel  for  thousands  of  years. 

Of  some  memorials  and  wonders  of  Egyi)t,  there  are  more 


TRAVELS  IN   THE  EAST.  137 

in  New  York  than  in  Cairo.  As  ancient  Eome  stole  their 
obelisks,  so  modern  nations  have  rilled  the  depositories  of 
ancient  art.  But  of  late  a  law  has  been  enacted  forbidding 
the  removal  of  antiquities  from  Egypt.  A  museum  of  price- 
less value  has  been  erected  under  the  direction  of  Mareelle 
Be}'.  One  relic  is  a  black  granite  head,  the  features  sharply 
cut,  wearing  a  double  crown,  —  the  symbol  of  authority  over 
Upper  and  Lower  Egypt,  —  supposed  to  represent  the  Pharaoh 
that  perished  in  the  Red  Sea.  .  .  .  But  the  time  came  for  my 
departure.  Egypt  had  not  been  the  house  of  bondage  to  me, 
as  it  was  to  ancient  Israel,  but  a  scene  of  constant  wonder 
and  recreation.  I  was  more  in  the  posture  of  Lot's  wife, 
reluctant  to  leave,  than,  like  Moses  and  Aaron,  eager  to  go 
right  on  my  way.  I  had  seen  much  that  awakened  a  desit-e 
to  see  more.  The  fair  landscape,  the  flora  of  Egypt,  were 
inviting.  "  The  barley  was  in  the  ear,  and  the  tiax  in  the 
boll."  The  wavijig  palm,  long  avenues  of  the  sycamore,  the 
tall  cypress,  the  acacia,  so  closely  identified  with  the  ark  in 
the  wilderness,  were  to  me  goodly  trees.  There  were  many 
vegetable  friends  in  Egypt  which  I  had  seen  in  America,  — 
corn,  beans,  peas,  cucumbers,  onions,  and  melons.  We  were 
allowed  a  visit  to  the  royal  gardens.  There  stood  large  and 
ancient  fig-trees.  I  was  interested  to  observe  that  the  fruit 
had  already  appeared  before  the  leaves  had  put  forth,  thus 
illustrating  the  Saviour's  curse  upon  the  barren  fig-tree, 
because,  while  the  season  had  advanced  so  far  that  the  tree 
was  full  of  leaves,  it  had  failed  to  produce  any  fruit,  although 
"the  time  of  figs  was  not  yet,"  that  is,  the  time  of  harvesting 
or  stripping  the  tree  had  not  come. 

I  had  also  made  some  acquaintances  among  the  animals  of 
Egypt.  For  the  donkey,  my  benevolence,  rather  than  my 
complacency,  was  excited.  They  were  crushed  underneath 
their  enormous  burdens.  Then  a  lout  of  an  Arab  would  sit 
at  the  top,  having  no  occupation  but  a  savage  beating  of 
the  beast.  I  could  hardly  hurl  the  jibe  of  the  prophet,  when 
he  said,  "  The  horses  of  Egypt  are  flesh,  and  not  spirit."  I 
could  understand  rather  how  Solomon  was  tempted  to  seek 
chariots  and  chargers  from  this  land  of  the  Nile.     I  saw  one 


138  REV.   HORACE   EATON,   D.D. 

hundred  of  the  Viceroy's  horses  feeding  in  the  royal  meadow. 
Fire  beamed  in  their  eyes  ;  strength  and  beanty  sat  upon 
their  manes.  The  camel  won  my  deepest  interest.  The 
meekness  of  his  aspect,  his  patient  endurance,  the  fact  that 
he  was  the  friend  of  Abraham  and  the  patriarchs,  the  pilgrim 
bearer,  endeared  him  to  mc.  We  call  the  camel  the  ship  of 
the  desert.  The  Arabs  call  ships  the  camels  of  the  sea. 
Thono-h  the  crows,  the  cats,  the  dogs,  and  tlie  frogs  did  not 
fail  to  salute  me,  I  regretted  that  my  presence  did  not  invite 
a  sight  of  the  gazelle,  the  river-horse,  and  the  crocodile. 

But  I  must  not  forget  my  parting  with  my  own  i\Iohammed, 
for  I  had  a  Mohammed.  All  the  dragomen  or  guides  are 
either  Salims  or  Hassans,  Abrahams  or  ]\Iohammeds.  But 
my  Mohammed  was  an  honest  man.  If  his  principles  were 
not  true,  he  was  true  to  his  principles.  He  had  a  large  faith. 
With  the  utmost  assurance  he  showed  me  the  well  that 
Joseph  dug,  the  tree  under  whose  shade  the  holy  family  sat ; 
and,  because  they  sat  there,  he  believed  the  tree  was  to  live 
forever.  He  pointed  to  the  very  spot  where  the  little  ark  of 
Moses  was  taken  from  the  flags.  And  so  simple  and  san- 
guine was  he,  that  I  asked  no  proof,  and  had  no  controversy. 
He  gave  me  his  confidence,  and  I  gave  him  my  money.  He 
was  in  reputation  with  the  Mohammedans,  and  was  anxious 
to  give  me  the  inside  track.  He  showed  me  the  splendidly 
dressed  Nubian  eunuch,  wlio  had  the  cliarge  of  tlie  Khedive's 
harem.  He  was  au  fait  in  imparting  information  in  regard 
to  the  domestic  relations  of  his  people.  None  save  the 
Khedive  had  the  right  to  more  than  four  wives.  For  himself 
he  was  satisfied  with  one.  And  although  the  Koran  per- 
mitted the  lords  of  creation  to  put  away  their  wives  for  every 
cause,  he  assured  me  he  had  no  disposition  to  put  away  his. 
"Why  should  I  put  her  away?"  said  he.  "She  does  every 
thing  for  me.  She  washes  my  feet,  and  brings  me  my  break- 
fast every  morning,  before  I  arise."  My  Mohammed  seemed 
to  entertain  a  sincere  affection  for  me.  He  went  with  me 
everywhere ;  but  he  could  not  climb  the  Pyramid  with  me. 
He  was  too  old.  It  was  with  no  little  emotion  that  we  parted. 
He  even  accompanied  me  to  the  cars,  going  on  with  me  to 


TRAVELS  m  THE  EAST.  139 

the  next  station.     He  gave  to  me  the  Mohammedan  salaam, 
and  I  gave  to  him  the  gospel  farewell. 

I  felt  no  sorrow  in  leaving  behind  the  tombs  of  the  caliphs, 
the  fat  mosqnes,  and  the  lean  minarets;  but,  more  than  of 
the  Pyramids,  I  felt  the  subduing  power  of  that  solitary 
obelisk  standing  alone  where  the  Temple  of  the  Sun,  where 
the  priest,  and  the  city  of  On,  had  their  place ;  where  Joseph 
escaped  the  toils  of  temptation,  sat  at  the  right  hand  of 
Pharaoh,  and  was  made  known  to  his  brethren  who  came 
bending  unto  him  ;  against  which  Abraham  may  have  leaned, 
and  whose  shadow  may  have  fallen  on  Jacob  and  Joseph,  and 
even  upon  the  infant  Saviour.  That  lone  obelisk  in  the  field 
stands  a  witness  to  a  high,  a  solemn,  a  sacred  antiquity. 

When  about  to  leave  Egypt,  the  party  with  whom  I  trav- 
eled were  unwilling  to  take  a  detour  around  by  the  Red  Sea. 
But  not  to  look  upon  the  locality  where  the  tribes  crossed 
that  sea  was  to  lose  one  of  my  main  purposes  in  visiting 
Egypt.  An  American  brother  was  persuaded  to  go  with 
me.  A  slow,  one-horse  railroad  took  us  from  Cairo,  by  Isma- 
lia,  to  the  Gulf  of  Suez.  In  our  journey  it  was  a  surprise 
to  descry  in  the  distance  the  masts,  sails,  and  rigging  of  tall 
ships,  apparently  passing  through  the  dry  land.  This  was 
our  first  view  of  the  great  maritime  canal  from  the  Red  to 
the  Mediterranean  Sea. 

At  ten  in  the  evening  of  March  18  (1874),  we  came  to  a 
halt  near  the  shore  of  the  Red  Sea.  No  light  among  the  low 
huts  and  crooked  streets  of  Suez,  but  a  lantern,  with  the 
word  "  Hotel "  on  it,  in  the  hand  of  a  native  Arab  boy.  The 
barking  of  dogs,  "  the  strife  of  tongues,"  the  wrangling  of 
Arab  porters,  the  cry  of  persons  in  every  language  to  the  lad 
who  was  hurrying  on  with  the  lantern,  made  the  darkness 
hideous.  But  at  length  we  came  safely  to  the  place  of  enter- 
tainment. The  room  I  occupied  looked  out  upon  the  Gulf, 
and,  listening  to  the  lullaby  of  the  waves,  I  went  to  sleep. 
Early  the  next  morning  the  landlord  was  at  my  door  with 
the  cry,  "  Rise  and  see  what  has  not  been  known  here  for  a 
hundred  years  !  "  I  was  soon  upon  the  house-top.  The  sight 
was  not  a  strange  one  to  a  boy  brouglit  up  among  the  moun- 
tains of  New  Hampshire.     It  was  a  slight  fall  of  snow. 


140  REV.   HORACE   EATON,   D.D. 

But  nothing  could  divert  me  from  settling  in  mj  own 
mind  the  question  of  the  passage  of  Israel  across  the  sea. 
The  chief  inquiry  with  me  was,  Can  we  make  the  shoal,  the 
ebb-tide  theory,  consistent  with  the  narrative  of  Moses  and 
with  the  physical  features  of  the  coast?  Can  we  get  quit  of 
a  miracle  ?  Can  the  deliverance  of  Israel  be  attributed  to 
the  natural  outgoing  of  the  tide  intensified  by  the  east  wind? 
After  following  around  the  shore,  taking  a  view  of  the  plain 
where  the  tribes  might  encamp,  after  consulting  with  Mr. 
Andrews,  an  intelligent  Scotchman,  the  treasurer  of  the  great 
transportation  company,  Avho  had  studied  this  interesting 
locality  some  ten  years,  after  conversing  with  the  ca[)tain  of 
an  English  steamer  who  had  sailed  the  Red  Sea  for  thirty 
years,  I  came  to  the  clear  conviction  that  "the  shoal,"  "the 
ebb-tide  "  theory,  was  the  shallow  theory. 

There  is  a  triangular  plain  south  of  the  town  of  Suez.  The 
sides  of  this  triangle  may  be  some  ten  miles,  affording  abun- 
dant area  for  the  Israelitish  camp  and  all  their  flocks  and 
herds.  The  south-west  side  of  this  triangle  is  bounded  by 
an  impassable  mountain,  the  Attaka  range.  This  makes  an 
acute  angle  with  the  shore  of  the  sea ;  and  this  acute  angle, 
we  have  no  doubt,  Avas  the  trap  in  which  Israel  was  caught. 
Here  they  found  themselves  "before  Pihahiroth,  between 
Migdol  and  the  sea."  Here,  as  they  looked  behind  them, 
they  saw  the  Egyptians  coming  down  upon  them  with  their 
six  hundred  chariots.  They  could  not  flee  south  and  west, 
because  of  the  mountains.  The}''  could  not  flee  to  the  east, 
because  the  sea  interposed  a  barrier.  Thus  "they  were  en- 
tangled in  the  land,"  and  "  the  wilderness  shut  them  in." 
Then,  if  we  look  at  the  crossing,  Ave  find  that  it  meets  the 
terms  of  the  narrative.  ...  It  was  clear  to  me,  that  on  this 
plain,  filling  the  acute  angle  between  the  mountains  and  the 
sea,  the  Israelites  were  encamped  ;  that  at  the  point  of  this 
angle,  by  the  wonder-Avorking  rod,  the  sea  opened  a  passage 
to  the  other  shore.  The  distance  across  Avas  about  seven 
miles.  I  think  I  stood  upon  the  very  strand  where  the 
corpses  of  the  Egyptians,  and  their  chariots,  Avere  cast  up. 
The   locality   implies   an   out   and   out,  full-grown  miracle. 


TRAVELS  IN   THE  EAST.  141 

"Whatever  may  be  the  inability  of  some  to  grasp  the  simple 
statements  of  Bible  truth  touching  that  great  event,  here 
was  just  the  physical  formation  of  mountain  and  plain  and 
shore  suggested  by  the  perusal  of  the  sacred  narrative.  And 
I  felt  the  most  decided  conviction  and  pleasant  satisfaction 
in  gazing  upon  the  spot  that  answered  so  clearly  to  the  in- 
spired Word.  .  .  .  The  passage  was  from  the  head  of  the 
Attaka  Mountains  to  the  Wells  of  Moses  on  the  other  side, 
through  the  very  depths,  where,  at  a  cost  of  five  millions  of 
dollars,  the  Khedive  of  Egypt  has  built  his  wharves  and  har- 
bor for  the  accommodation  of  the  Suez  Canal  Company.  A 
railway  not  quite  parallel  to  the  crossing  of  the  tribes  ex- 
tends two  miles  and  a  half  out  into  the  sea  to  the  docks. 
From  the  ships  at  anchor,  I  could  see  the  Wells  of  Moses  on 
the  other  side,  some  two  miles  from  the  shore,  in  the  Arabian 
Desert.  A  few  stunted  palm-trees  and  tamarisks  cluster 
around  the  fountains,  forming  an  oasis.  Here,  or  not  far 
distant,  Moses  and  the  children  of  Israel  sang  their  Song  of 
Triumph. 

From  Egypt  to  Palestine. 

Having  sailed  through  the  canal  to  Port  Said,  March  22, 
at  five  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  the  "Vesta,"  an  Austrian 
steamer  bound  for  Jaffa,  bore  me  away  from  Egypt  and  from 
the  African  coast.  There  was  great  variety  in  the  nationality, 
condition,  and  feelings  of  the  passengers.  The  Jew  had  come 
from  Pesth  or  Spain,  from  Egypt,  or  perhaps  New  York,  to 
find  under  the  shadow  of  some  sacred  mountain  his  last  rest- 
ing-place. The  Mohammedan  has  already  been  to  the  shrine 
and  grave  of  his  Prophet  at  Mecca;  but  he  would  aspire  to 
still  higher  rewards  and  honors  by  worshiping  in  the  mosque 
of  Omar,  and  kissing  the  rock  over  which  stood  the  altar  at 
Solomon's  temple.  The  Greek,  the  Latin,  the  Copt,  the 
Armenian,  are  all  zealous  to  enter  the  vestibule  of  the  Holy 
Land,  in  hope  of  kneeling  at  the  sepulchre,  or  bathing  in  the 
Jordan.  This  blindness  and  superstition  excited  the  smile 
or  the  pity  of  the  Frank  and  the  Protestant.  But  I  had 
honesty  enough  to  apply  the  criticism  to  myself.     Had  I  not 


142  REV.   HORACE  EATOX,   D.D. 

come  as  far?  Did  not  my  pulse  beat  as  quickly  for  a  passage 
to  Jerusalem  and  the  Jordan  as  theirs?  "Happy  is  he  that 
condemneth  not  himself  in  the  thino:  which  he  alloweth."  .  .  . 
Looking  down  on  the  motley  multitude  crowded  into  the 
steerage,  there  seemed  to  be  not  less  devotion,  but  more  dirt. 
As  I  Avas  approaching  the  very  spot  where  Peter  beheld  the 
sheet  let  down,  "full  of  all  kinds  of  four-footed  beasts  and 
wild  beasts  and  creeping  things,"  I  saw  two  women  lay  hold 
of  the  head  of  one  poor  wight,  and  in  a  most  literal  manner 
they  obej'ed  the  command,  "  Slay  and  eat."  The  East  need 
John  Wesley's  gospel,  "■  Cleanliness  is  next  to  godliness."  I 
am  constrained  to  speak  here  of  what  one  of  our  own  mem- 
bers, Miss  Maria  A.  West,  is  doing  in  this  direction  for  the 
Armenians,  who  comprise  a  large  portion  of  the  Eastern 
world.  In  connection  with  her  volume,  "Loving  Counsels 
to  Armenian  Women  in  Turkey,"  she  has  published  a  small 
tract,  also  in  Armenian,  on  "  Health  and  Cleanliness,"  — 
clean  air,  clean  persons,  clean  houses. 

But  Ave  are  already  coasting  along  the  shore  of  Philistia,  a 
narrow  strip  of  territory  lying  between  the  hills  of  Judtea  and 
the  sea.  It  was  about  nine  o'clock  in  the  morning  when  we 
descried  Jaffa,  perched  upon  a  projecting  eminence.  Like  the 
ancient  tribes,  we  Avere  to  enter  the  promised  land  through 
the  waters.  The  harbor  is  a  dangerous  one.  But  it  was 
calm,  and  Arab  boatmen  soon  had  us  away  through  the  rocks 
to  the  landing-place. 

Into  this  harbor  the  cedars  of  Lebanon  were  floated  for 
Solomon's  temple.  This  is  the  port  to  which  Jonah  fled ; 
this  the  city  where  Peter  had  his  toleration  dream.  Where 
is  the  house  of  Simon  the  tanner?  where  the  house  of 
Dorcas?  Mine  is  no  vision  like  Peter's.  This  is  the  verita- 
ble Joppa,  the  oldest  seaport  in  the  world.  It  is  said  to  have 
been  called  Jojipa  from  Japheth,  the  son  of  Noah,  avIio,  it 
seems,  contracted  a  taste  for  maritime  pursuits  during  his 
long  cruise  in  the  ark. 

The  streets  of  Jaffa  are  narrow,  rising  one  above  another 
like  terraces.  A  wall  twelve  feet  high  defends  the  town  on 
the  landward  side.  ...  I  enjoyed  the  aroma  of  three  hun- 


TRAVELS  IN   THE  EAST.  143 

dred  and  fifty  gardens,  in  size  varying  from  two  to  twelve 
acres.  Each  garden  is  watered  from  one  or  two  wells.  Tliey 
are  surrounded  by  hedges  of  prickly  pear  six  feet  high. 
Within  grow  the  palm,  the  acacia,  oranges,  lemons,  apricots, 
pomegranates.  The  yearly  production  of  oranges  is  eight 
millions,  averaging  from  ten  to  twelve  inches  in  circumfer- 
ence.    I  never  tasted  an  orange  before. 

But  the  richest  memory  I  brought  away  from  Jaffa  was  the 
sight  of  one  of  our  own  townsmen.  As  I  felt  myself  a  fugi- 
tive "  faint  and  astray  "  at  the  khan  to  which  we  were  all 
hurried  on  landing,  I  was  accosted  by  the  friendly  voice  of 
Mr.  Albert  Hemenway,  his  wife  and  daughter  also  joining  in 
the  salutation.  They  had  been  driven  back  from  Jerusalem 
by  the  cold  weather,  and  were  on  their  return.  He  expressed 
deep  concern  for  my  welfare,  and  gave  me  some  important 
hints  and  helps  in  regard  to  my  journey. 

At  the  very  entrance  to  Palestine  I  was  struck  with  the 
pious  frauds  practiced  upon  the  ignorant  at  every  step. 
Forty  boys  crying  "Backsheesh"  are  ready  to  show  you  the 
staple-ring  in  the  rock  to  which  Noah  fastened  the  ark.  To 
the  same  ring,  long  afterward,  Andromeda,  who  was  deliv- 
ered by  Perseus,  was  chained.  Half-naked  urchins  will 
conduct  you  to  the  house  of  Simon  the  tanner,  and  accom- 
modate 3^ou  to  any  part  of  the  town  ;  different  houses  sharing 
the  honor.  There  are  tanneries  by  the  seaside,  3^et  they  can 
scarcely  use  salt  water  for  their  vats,  though  they  may  wash 
their  raw  hides  in  the  surf.  .  .  .  The  party  made  up  for  the 
tour  of  Palestine  assembled  at  the  caravansery.  Many  of 
the  company  were  eager  to  secure  the  best  horse  and  the 
best  saddle.  I  had  no  skill  or  ability  in  the  log-rolling.  The 
result  was,  that  the  most  forlorn-looking  nag  of  the  lot  fell 
to  me.  At  first  he  seemed  dissatisfied  with  his  rider.  He 
had  been  abused  and  jaded.  But  a  shilling  now  and  then  to 
the  muleteer  reflected  favorably  upon  the  food  and  the 
grooming.  By  such  kindness  we  soon  became  close  friends. 
I  was  surprised  to  find  him  so  unwilling  to  be  outstripped, 
and  still  more  that  he  was  able  to  keep  up  with  the  fleetest. 
He  bore  me  ahead  of  the  entire  company  to  tlie  gate  of 
Jerusalem.  .  .  . 


144  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 


From  Jaffa  to  Jerusalem. 


]\Iarcli  22,  at  half-past  ten  in  the  morning,  v-'e  left  Jopp.i, 
and  moved  out  south-east\A'ard  toward  Jerusalem.  'J'he 
Plain  of  Sharon  was  on  the  north,  the  Plain  of  the  Philis- 
tines on  the  south.  Along  the  shore  there  is  a  sandy  bar. 
Back  of  this,  till  you  come  to  the  mountains  of  Judah  and 
Benjamin,  some  fifteen  miles,  extending  from  Gaza  to  Car- 
mel,  the  fertility  is  marvelous.  But  bad  cultivation  and  bad 
government  have  nearly  fulfilled  the  word  of  Zeplianiah 
against  this  jilain :  "  For  Gaza  shall  be  forsaken,  and  Asca- 
lon  a  desolation.  I  will  even  destroy  thee,  that  there  shall 
be  no  inhabitant." 

In  my  childhood  I  always  took  sides  with  Samson.  I 
admired  his  bold  exploits  upon  the  Philistines.  Now  on  the 
ground,  I  was  inquisitive  as  to  the  localities  of  these 
events.  .  .  .  We  went  over  a  part  of  the  road  where  the  ark 
was  borne  in  a  new  cart  drawn  by  a  span  of  kine,  "  lowing 
as  they  went."  .  .  .  Ten  miles  out  from  Jaffa,  we  passed 
Ramleh  on  the  right,  environed  by  cactus  hedges,  surrounded 
by  fertile  fields  and  flocks  and  herds.  .  .  .  Two  miles  and  a 
half  north  of  Ramleh  is  Lj^dda,  remembered  by  the  visit  of 
Peter  and  the  cure  of  ^neas  (Acts  9 :  32).  .  .  .  Our  course 
lay  within  a  few  miles  of  Ekron,  and  we  could  look  far  down 
the  Philistine  plain  on  the  south,  toward  Ashdod,  Ziklag, 
Eglon,  Ascalon.  "  Gaza  which  was  desert "  was  some  thirty 
miles  from  us.  The  face  of  the  country  appeared  to  me 
somewliat  like  Columbia  County  as  you  ride  from  Canaan 
down  toward  Hudson.  I  must  not  forget  Gath,  the  birth- 
place of  Goliath  the  prize-fighter,  reproduced  in  the  modern 
Philistines,  Heenan,  Morissey,  and  tlie  like. 

It  was  interesting  to  ride  along  througli  the  beautiful 
Aijalon,  wliere  Josliua,  standing  near  Beth-Horon  the  upper, 
and  looking  back  upon  Gibeon,  and  down  upon  the  valley, 
uttered  the  omnipotent  word,  "  Sun,  stand  thou  still  in 
Gibeon,  and  thou  moon,  in  the  Valley  of  Aijalon."  Here 
we  spent  a  rainy,  moonless  night  at  an  old  Arab  khan  ;  and 
men,  horses,  donkeys,  were   served  very  much  alike.     The 


TRAVELS  IN   THE   EAST.  145 

next  day  we  crossed,  according  to  Dr.  Robinson,  the  Valley 
of  Elah,  where  David  and  Goliath  had  the  duel.  We  saw 
two  sides  of  the  valley  wliere  the  two  armies  might  have 
been  drawn  up.  We  found  the  smooth  stones  in  the  rushing 
stream,  and  I  took  one  and  put  it  in  my  scrip.  Some  six- 
teen miles  from  Jerusalem,  the  ascent  becomes  steep  and 
difficult.  Up  to  this  point  I  thought  a  railroad  could  be 
constructed.  A  very  good  turnpike  had  been  built  by  the 
Sultan  for  the  convenience  of  the  Prince  of  Wales.  But 
onward  and  upward  none  but  animals  skilled  in  such  climb- 
ing could  make  their  way.  "  Hills  peep  o'er  hills,  and  Alps 
o'er  Alps  arise."  When  we  had  gained  the  summit  of  one 
height,  we  strained  our  eyes  to  catch  the  tirst  view  of  the 
Holy  City,  but  yielded  to  disappointment  as  we  went  down, 
down,  and  then  up  to  the  top  of  another  eminence.  So  we 
traveled  on  for  hours,  till  hope  deferred  made  the  heart  sick. 
At  length  came  the  cheering  cry,  "  Jafi'a  Gate !  Jaffa 
Gate ! " 

The  Tomb  of  Eachel.     The  Pools  of  Solomon. 

Thouo'h  worn  and  weary  when  we  arrived  at  Jerusalem, 
our  dragoman  denied  us  time  to  rest,  but  decided  that  we 
must  that  night  encamp  at  Solomon's  Pools.  After  a  cold 
and  tasteless  lunch  outside  the  walls,  we  were  hurried  away 
with  the  promise  that  we  should  have  enough  of  Jerusalem 
on  our  return.  First  we  must  see  the  cities  of  Judah,  the 
Dead  Sea,  and  the  Jordan.  Seven  hundred  yards  from  the 
walls  on  the  southern  side  of  the  city,  we  found  ourselves  in 
the  midst  of  the  Valley  of  Hinnom.  On  the  right  was 
spread  out  the  Plain  of  Rephaim,  "the  plain  of  the  giants," 
(2  Sam.  5  :  17-25).  Following  the  roots  of  a  long,  bleak 
ridge  on  the  left,  and  cultivated  fields  on  the  right,  we  came 
at  length  to  a  well  in  the  middle  of  the  road.  Now  our  cre- 
dulity is  taxed  by  the  tradition  that  thus  far  the  wise  men  of 
the  East,  when  sent  away  by  Herod,  wandered  in  uncertainty, 
but,  stooping  down  to  draw  water,  they  suddenly  saw  their 
guiding  star  mirrored  in  the  clear  surface  of  the  well,  and 
"  they  rejoiced  with  exceeding  great  joy."     Going  up  an  easy 


146  REV.   HORACE  EATOX,   D.D. 

slope  from  the  well,  we  next  came  to  the  convent  called  IMar 
Elias.  Here  we  were  treated  to  another  legend.  It  is  very 
likely  that  Elijah,  lleeing  to  Beersheba  from  the  face  of  Jeze- 
bel, passed  this  way,  and  rested  under  the  juniper  in  the 
southern  wilderness;  but  it  is  quite  a  blunder  to  put  the 
place  an  hour  and  a  half  from  Jerusalem,  luider  an  olive.  .  .  . 
From  this  spot  there  was  a  fine  outlook  both  Avays.  The 
traveler  coming'  noith  catches  his  first  view  of  Jerusalem,  — 
the  sides  and  summit  of  Olivet,  —  and,  going  south,  gains  his 
first  view  of  Bethlehem,  about  three  miles  distant,  east  of 
south,  on  an  eminence  set  around  with  olives  and  fig-trees. 
As  I  stretched  my  eyes  toward  Bethlehem,  I  felt  tlie  power 
of  the  locality.  There  David  Avas  born.  Tliere  was  the 
birth  of  "•  David's  Sun  "  and  David's  Lord.  Yet  there  seemed 
nothing  imposing  in  outward  situation  or  ntagnificence. 
"But  thou  Bethlehem  E})hratah,  though  thou  wast  little 
among  the  thousands  of  Judah,  yet  out  of  thee  shall  He  come 
forth  unto  me  that  is  to  be  the  ruler  in  Israel." 

But,  while  thus  taken  up  Avith  Bethlehem,  we  come  upon 
the  tomb  of  Rachel.  "  And  Rachel  died,  and  was  buried  in 
the  Avay  to  Ephrath,  and  Jacob  set  up  a  ])illar  on  l^er  grave." 
The  pillar  has  long  since  disa})peared ;  but  the  spot  has  been 
handed  doAvn,  and  a  tomb  of  no  recent  date  covers  a  cave 
Avliieh  is  underneath.  .  .  .  The  mind  of  Rachel,  it  is  hoped, 
had  been  I'enovated  and  purified  by  the  sojourn  at  Bethel. 
She  had  more  fully  joined  Avith  her  husband  in  the  covenant 
Avhich  he  made  Avith  God  thirty  years  before,  Avhen  he  fled 
from  Esau.  This  mutual  consecration  to  Jehovah  prepared 
them  both  for  the  separation  that  awis  soon  to  folloAV.  .  .  . 
The  remembrance  of  this  visit  to  the  tomb  of  Racliel  Avas 
deeply  im})ressed  by  an  old  and  celebrated  painting,  "•  Tlie 
Death  of  Rachel,"  Avhich  I  Avitnessed  at  Venice.  With  a 
superliuman  calmness  and  radiance  of  countenance,  Rachel  is 
represented  as  looking  into  eternity.  Joseph,  Avho  is  four  or 
five  years  old,  is  Aveeping  by  the  side  of  his  dying  mother. 
The  nurse  is  holding  the  beautiful  little  Benjamin  in  her 
arms,  and  even  Leah  has  turned  away  in  tears.  But  the 
expression  in  the  eye  and  visage  of  Jacob  holds  the  heart  of 


TRAVELS  IN   THE  EAST.  147 

the  observer.  You  can  see  that  his  thoughts  are  running 
back  to  the  moment  when  he  first  met  Rachel  at  the  well, 
when  he  answered  her  kind  looks  and  words  with  all  the 
simple  courtesies  of  desert  and  shepherd  life  —  when  he  told 
her  that  he  was  Rebekah's  son.  He  remembers  how  short 
were  the  seven  j'ears  lie  served  for  her,  and  that,  had  it 
not  been  for  the  cruel  disappointment,  he  had  never  had 
another  wife.  The  tender  memories  of  the  past,  the  anguish 
of  partiug,  the  pledges  of  the  father  to  the  mother  in  regard 
to  the  little  ones  she  leaves,  are  all  depicted  on  the  counte- 
nance of  the  patriarch  as  he  sits  by  the  side,  and  holds  the 
hand,  of  his  dying  Rachel.  .  .  . 

The  sight  of  the  ancient  Zelzah  on  the  right  brought  up 
all  that  beautiful  narrative  of  the  anointing  of  Saul  by 
Samuel.  But  while  we  moved  along  through  the  fields, 
admiring  the  bright  scarlet  anemone,  —  those  lilies-of-the- 
vallej'  pronounced  by  the  highest  authority  to  be  more 
brilliantly  adorned  than  was  Solomon  in  all  his  glory,  —  we 
found  ourselves  descending  to  the  spot  where  that  king  once 
had  his  rural  paradise.  His  word  is,  "I  made  me  great 
works.  I  builded  me  houses.  I  planted  me  vineyards.  I 
made  me  gardens  and  orchards,  and  I  planted  trees  in  them 
of  all  kinds  of  fruit.  1 7nade  me  pools  of  icater  to  icater  there- 
with the  wood  [or  the  forest]  that  hringeth  forth  trees^ 
Solomon's  Pools  consist  of  three  innnense  oblong  tanks,  the 
second  lower  than  the  first,  and  the  third  lower  than  the 
second.  The  bottom  and  sides  are  cut  in  the  solid  ledge, 
and  seem  to  be  of  ancient  date.  They  were  nearly  full  of 
water  when  I  was  there.  The  lowest  is  582  feet  long  and 
200  feet  broad ;  the  middle,  more  than  400  feet  long  and  200 
broad ;  the  upper,  380  feet  long  and  236  broad.  In  all  of 
them  the  east  end  is  broader  than  the  west.  The  lower  pool 
is  50  feet  deep ;  the  middle  one,  39  feet  deep ;  and  the  upper 
pool  25.  A  number  of  living  springs  in  tlie  hills  around 
fed  these  pools  by  covered  aqueducts.  .  .  .  Perhaps  as  a 
fort,  or  khan  where  caravans  could  find  security  for  the 
night,  there  was  a  large  and  strong  stone  structure  near 
these  reservoirs.     We  were  permitted  to  look  through  the 


148  REV.    HORACE   EATON,   D.D. 

gate ;  but  we  feared  the  filth  and  robbers  within  more  than 
without,  and  pitched  our  tents  some  little  way  from  it.  The 
night,  cold  and  rainy,  was  the  first  I  had  spent  in  a  tent. 
The  jackals  saluted  us  in  a  variety  of  voices;  sometimes  in 
a  fierce  snarl,  then  in  a  plaintive  and  pitiful  cry  like  that  of 
a  weaned  child.  Some  of  our  ladies  insisted  that  the  sounds 
Avere  those  of  human  beings  in  distress.  We  were  also  occa- 
sionally diverted  by  the  scream  of  the  eagle.  .  .  . 

To  Solomon's  parks  around  these  pools,  more  than  eight 
miles  distant  from  the  palace,  Josephus  assures  us,  the  king 
was  accustomed  to  ride  in  the  early  morning.  Clothed  in 
white,  seated  in  a  chariot  made  of  the  wood  of  Lebanon, 
he  was  off  with  his  cavalcade  of  horsemen  before  the  sun 
rose  over  Olivet.  "•  In  his  majesty  he  rode  prosperously." 
The  beginning  of  this  ride  must  have  been  interesting,  as  he 
passed  Gihon,  wliere  he  was  first  anointed  king.  .  .  .  Per- 
haps he  gives  a  passing  notice  to  Bethlehem,  and  looks  in 
upon  the  plain  old  house  of  his  grandfather  Jesse,  and  bids 
good-morning  to  some  rustic,  pious  relative.  From  Bethle- 
hem the  retinue  rush  on  ;  so  that,  before  the  dew  is  off  of  the 
gardens,  the  princely  company  may  "gather  lilies,"  and  "see 
whether  the  vine  flourishes,"  and  tidce  for  their  breakfast 
milk  fresh  from  the  fold.  How  mucli  of  Solomo)i's  Songs 
found  its  imagery  in  his  gardens  and  vineyards  around  these 
pools  ! 

But  leaving  now  the  pools,  and  making  our  way  southward 
toward  Hebron,  Ave  first  climb  a  steep  i)ituh,  and  ascend  "the 
high  places  of  Judiea."  This  central  ridge,  running  through 
the  whole  land  north  and  south,  about  midway  between  the 
Jordan  and  the  Mediterranean,  is  well  represented  by  the 
backbone  of  some  monster  with  the  flesh  stri])ped  off.  The 
hills  and  valley's  going  out  from  it  on  either  side  make  the 
ridge  a})pear  like  a  series  of  vertebrae.  Between  the  peaks 
we  surmounted  were  fertile  valleys.  There  were  ]iatches  of 
wheat  on  the  i)lain,  vines  and  olives  on  tlic  liillsides,  flocks 
of  slieep  and  goats,  with  their  shepherds,  cropping  the  coarse 
lierbage  fir  up  among  the  rocks.  Passing  over  these  rough 
acres,  and  through  these  narrow  passes,  we  met  a  long  train- 


TRAVELS  IN   THE  EAST.  149 

of  camels,  a  lively  illustration  of  the  company  that  bore 
spicery  and  balm  to  Egypt,  and  took  Joseph  along — the 
richest  jewel  of  the  train.  There  must  have  been  a  hundred 
of  these  beasts  of  burden.  They  were  loaded  with  charcoal 
for  Jerusalem.  We  met  them  on  their  return,  and,  anxious 
for  their  welfare,  inquired  how  they  sold  their  coal.  Some 
of  tliem  had  been  fifty  miles,  out  and  in,  and  were  delighted 
with  their  reward.  Each  camel-load  brought  a  gold  sover- 
eign, —  some  five  dollars.  I  was  prompted  to  inquire  of 
what  the  charcoal  was  made,  since  no  forest  or  waste  wood 
were  in  sight  from  which  to  pile  the  coal-pit.  Investigation 
led  to  the  explanation  of  certain  texts.  The  root  and  stalk 
of  a  shrub  that  grows  along  the  water-courees  furnishes  the 
material.  The  Arabs  retain  the  old  Hebrew  name  Rothem. 
Our  translators  call  it  juniper.  This  is  the  brush  under 
which  Elijah  sat  and  uttered  his  peevish  complaint  when  he 
fled  from  the  face  of  Jezebel.  Job  speaks  of  those  that  "  cut 
up  mallows  by  the  water-courses,  and  juniper-roots " ;  and 
the  Psalmist,  referring  to  the  same  use  that  is  now  made  of 
the  plant,  speaks  of  "coals  of  juniper."  We  see  how  the 
holding-on  to  old  habits,  the  want  of  progress  among  the 
inhabitants  of  the  East,  is  made  to  subserve  the  illustration 
of  the  Scriptures.  The  Arabs  of  the  present  time,  like  Elijah, 
are  often  seen  sitting,  sleeping,  under  the  shadow  of  this 
shrub. 

Hebron. 

It  was  twelve  miles  from  Solomon's  Pools  to  Hebron.  Here 
and  there  was  an  old  tower,  an  old  foundation,  an  old  ruin 
of  a  mosque  or  of  a  church,  dating  back  to  the  Crusades. 
We  saw  two  or  three  old  wells,  or  troughs,  where  water  was 
obtained  for  caravans.  Holes  — caverns  under  projecting 
ledges,  where  the  Arabs  live,  and  where  the  shepherds  collect 
their  flocks  in  time  of  storm  —  are  frequently  seen.  Not  far 
from  us  was  the  Cave  of  Adullam,  where  David  and  his  six 
hundred  were  concealed  when  hunted  by  Saul  "like  part- 
ridges upon  the  mountains."  The  partridges  still  abound 
here.     Some  three  miles  out  of  Hebron,  we  passed,  on  the 


150  EEV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

left,  wlmt  the  Arabs  call  the  house  of  Abraham.  The  old 
structure  has  large  foundation-stones  some  fifteen  feet  long 
and  three  or  four  thick.  There  is  also  a  well  there.  This  is 
supposed  to  be  the  work  of  Jewish  hands,  erected,  perhaps, 
around  the  spot  where  Abraham  dwelt ;  where,  under  the 
oak-forest,  angels  visited  him  and  told  him  of  the  destruction 
of  Sodom  ;  where  he  offered  up  his  intercessory  prayer ;  and 
whence  he  "beheld,  and  lo,  the  smoke  of  the  country 
went  up  as  the  smoke  of  a  furnace."  Along  the  same  way 
David  led  his  veteran  warriors  to  take  the  strongholds  of 
Jebus  or  Jerusalem.  Probably  Jesus  and  the  holy  family 
went  over  this  road  on  their  way  to  Egypt.  After  alternat- 
ing between  these  rough  peaks  and  highland  valleys,  we  come 
to  the  brow,  from  which  we  look  down  upon  Hebron  and  its 
surroundings,  —  a  valley  running  north  and  south.  To  the 
eye  approaching  it  from  the  north  it  has  some  resemblance, 
abating  the  lake,  to  Canandaigua  and  its  vicinity  as  we  enter 
it  from  Palmyra.  It  was  a  gala-day  with  the  people  of  He- 
bron. For  miles  out  we  met  men,  dressed  in  their  best,  armed 
with  guns,  and  boys  with  pistols.  The  multitude  increased 
as  we  approached  the  town.  Women  in  white,  and  veiled, 
sat  by  the  roadside  with  their  smaller  children.  We  appre- 
hended some  danger,  as  we  knew  that  the  Mohammedan 
hatred  of  Christians  was  here  most  intense,  no  Christian 
families  having  a  residence  in  Hebron.  We  were  particular 
to  pass  as  meekly  and  inoffensively  as  we  could  through  the 
crowd.  Stones  were  hurled  at  two  of  our  number  lingering  a 
little  behind ;  but  they  were  not  hit.  Hisses,  and  Arabic  words 
meaning  "  Christian  dogs,"  were  sent  after  us.  The  occasion 
which  called  out  the  i-abble  and  the  cavalcade  was  the  return 
of  three  sheikhs  from  their  pilgrimage  to  Mecca.  By  this 
they  had  gained  a  great  degree  and  saintship  among  the  peo- 
ple. Though  there  are  no  walls  around  the  city,  there  are 
gates,  through  which  we  pass  to  the  bazaar,  or  collection  of 
stalls,  where  Arab  merchants  and  tradesmen  display  their 
goods.  Spinners,  weavers,  blacksmiths,  shoemakers,  dyers, 
crlass-blowers,  were  there  at  work  in  the  most  contracted  and 
primitive  manner. 


TRAVELS  IN  THE  EAST.  151 

The  Cave  of  Machpelah. 

But  we  have  not  touched  the  thing  for  which  we  came  to 
Hebron.     After  threading  our  way  through  the  business  part 
of  the  town,  we  repaired,  by  a  narrow  and  filthy  path  beyond 
the  upper  row  of  houses,  to  an  enclosure  where  were  growing 
cactus,  and  shrubs  of  various  kinds.     From  this  eminence  we 
could  look  down  into  a  yard,  in  part  surrounded  by  an  iron 
fence.     There  stood  a  structure  some  eighteen  feet  in  diame- 
ter, having  twelve  glass  sides  or  windows  —  referring,  as  I 
suppose,  to  the  twelve  patriarchs.     It  had  a  sharp  roof  like  a 
tent,  and  something  of  the  appearance  of  a  summer-house  in 
one  of  our  gardens.     This,  we  were  told,  was  erected  over 
the  dust  of  the  patriarchs ;  in  other  words,  over  the  eave  of 
Machpelah.     It  is  the  most  authentic  relic  in  Palestine.     The 
sepulchre  of  the  patriarchs  lies  within  the  massive  walls  of 
the  Haram,  a  mosque,  which  overtops  all  the  houses  of  the 
city.    The  wall  is  constructed  of  immense  stones  from  twelve 
to  thirty-eight  feet  in  length.     The  edges  are  grooved,  the 
style  Jewish.     How  simple  and  affecting  the  account  of  these 
ancient  funerals  on  this  sacred  spot !     Here  Abraham  buried 
the  wife  of  his  youth,  who  came  with  him  out  of  Ur  of  the 
Chaldees.     "  And  Abraham  mourned  and  wept  for  Sarah,  in 
the  presence   of   the   children   of   Heth."      Here  Isaac   and 
Ishmael  laid  aside  their  mutual  hostiUty,  as  with  their  own 
hand  they  let  down  Abraham,  their  venerable  parent,  into  the 
grave  he  had  prepared  for  himself.     Here  Jacob  and  Esau, 
in  penitence  and  grief,  consigned  Isaac  their  father,  to  his 
final  resting-place.     Here  Joseph  and  his  brethren  mingled 
their  tears  over  tlie  embalmed  dust  of  Jacob.     It  is  a  pleas- 
ant thought  that  the  patriarchs  buried  their  animosities  in 
their  fathers'  graves.     Hebron  was  a  place  of  peace-making 
as  well  as  of  fraternal  sorrow.      Well  would  it  ever  be,  if 
family  feuds  went  no  further  than  the  ancestral  tomb.  .  .  . 
We  crossed  the  valley,  ascended  the  hill  on  the  west,  and  sat 
down  to  eat,  I  suppose,  on  the  very  spot  upon  which  Abraham 
built  his  altar,  and  erected  his  tent.     Some  six  times,  we  are 
told  that  the  cave  of  Machpelah  was  "  before  Mamre,"  and, 


152  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

if  the  cave  of  Machpelah  was  before  Mamve,  Mamre  was 
before  the  cave  of  Machpelah  ;  and  hence,  as  we  dined  right 
across  the  valley  opposite  Machpelah,  we  could  not  have  been 
far  from  Mamre,  where  the  angels,  in  the  form  of  men,  visited 
Abraham  as  he  sat  in  the  tent-door,  and  where  he  entertained 
his  heavenh"-  guests.  An  oaken  grove  which  has  passed  away 
was  the  dining-hall.  .  .  .  As  we  left  Hebron,  we  turned 
aside  to  the  left,  among  the  enclosures  planted  with  vines, 
there  to  stand  under  the  great  oak,  the  successor  of  those 
trees  that  shaded  Abraham  and  the  angels.  But  few  such 
witnesses  remain.  This  venerable  tree  measures  twenty-two 
feet  in  circumference,  and  casts  a  dense  and  wide  shade. 
The  day  before,  a  strong  wind  had  brought  down  one  of  its 
branches  to  the  ground.  An  Arab  woman  who  sat  as  a 
watch  forbade  our  taking  a  single  leaf;  and,  what  was  mar- 
velous, even  backsheesh  would  not  relax  the  order. 

AVith  reluctance,  I  took  my  last  view  of  the  Yale  of 
Hebron,  the  home  of  the  giants,  the  cradle  of  Isaac,  the 
throne  of  David,  the  charnel  of  the  patriarchs.  ...  I  have 
seen  the  proud,  the  pleasure-seeking  traveler  curl  his  lip  in 
scorn  at  the  burnt  and  ban-en  hills  of  Judaea.  And  when, 
after  long  toil,  he  looks  down  upon  the  Holy  City,  his  cry 
is,    "  A    sell,  a   sell ! "    "  What   is   there    here    to   entertain 


men  .' 


gentle 

.  .  .  That  every  generation  has  felt  a  peculiar  interest  in 
visiting  the  land  of  Canaan,  passing  by  Greece  and  Rome, 
and  other  seats  of  ancient  civilization,  is  not  because  it  is  the 
greater  land.  It  was  one  of  the  smallest  of  all  the  ancient 
states.  Measuring  from  Beersheba  to  Dan,  it  was  only  one 
hundred  and  forty  miles  in  length,  and  its  average  width 
was  not  more  than  forty  miles.  It  was  less  than  that  small 
portion  of  Great  Britain  called  Wales.  It  was  less  in  size 
than  the  little  State  of  New  Hampshire,  which  it  very  much 
resembles  in  shape  and  in  the  face  of  the  country.  It  is  not 
extent  of  territory  that  makes  a  nation  great  or  small :  it  is 
the  men  that  have  arisen,  the  events  that  have  transpired, 
that  give  interest  to  localities.  Who  that  seeks  to  review 
the  field  of  Waterloo  stops  to  inquire  whether  Belgium  has 


TRAVELS  IN   THE  EAST.  153 

a  great  or  small  territory?  It  is  the  men  who  fought  there, 
the  principles  there  staked,  the  issues  there  decided,  that 
make  the  spot  memorable.  Athens  was  narrow  and  barren 
in  her  acres  ;  but  her  statesmen,  her  poets,  her  struggles, 
have  made  her  great  in  all  the  earth.  In  Palestine,  heaven 
touched  our  earth.  Here  a  nation  Avas  set  apart  as  trustees 
for  the  world,  to  whom  were  committed  the  revelations,  the 
dispensations,  the  oracles  of  God.  In  these  were  wrapped 
up  the  provisions  of  eternal  life  for  the  human  race.  The 
thoughtful  believer  finds  the  very  desolations  of  tlie  Holy 
Land  a  fulfilment  of  the  Holy  Book  _;  and  true  affection 
lends  a  tinge,  a  savor,  to  every  memorial  of  thef  birth,  the 
life,  the  death,  of  an  esteemed  benefactor. 

Bethlehem. 

After  the  second  night  spent  at  Solomon's  Pools,  we  leave 
the  more  direct  road  to  Jerusalem,  and,  turning  eastward,  go 
down,  round  the  western  side  of  the  valley,  once  terraced 
and  fruitful.  We  creep  along  a  path,  descending  in  single 
file  a  steep  declivity.  Green  spots,  fertile  gardens,  vineyards 
with  towers  ^  for  the  watchmen,  still  greet  the  eye.  As  we 
rounded  the  spur  of  the  mountain  toward  the  east,  the  shout, 
"Bethlehem!"  went  up  from  our  guides;  and  across  the 
intervening  valley,  its  rock-ribbed  sides  and  limestone  habi- 
tations met  our  eye.  Keeping  our  way  to  the  south,  we 
came  at  length  to  the  road  which  enters  the  town  from 
Jerusalem,  on  the  west.  Bethlehem  is  built  on  a  stony 
eminence  some  mile  long,  and  less  than  half  that  in  width, 
sliding  down  to  a  deep  valley  on  the  north  and  on  the  south. 
It  presents  a  bold  headland  on  the  east.  There  stands  the 
Church  of  the  Nativity,  erected  in  the  fourth  century  by 
Helena,  the  mother  of  Constantine.  .  .  .  Ibrahim  Pasha, 
hearing  of  contentions  between  the  Christian  and  the  Moslem 
inhabitants,  and  finding  the  Christians  more  numerous,  hnpar- 
tially  ordered  the  Mohammedans  to  emigrate  ;  so  that  now, 
Bethlehem  is  almost  exclusively  Christian,  the  majority  being 
members  of  the  Greek  Church.  .  .  . 

1  Isa.  21  :  5-12. 


154  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

From   some  pinnacle   of   the   city,  like   Arthur's   Seat  in 
Edinburgh,  the  Bible  student  ma}'  employ  the  imagination 
—  that  magic-lantern  of  the  mind  —  in  calling  up,  and  giv- 
ing life,  to  scenes  of  Scripture  history  here  transacted.  .  .  . 
I  see  the  mother-in-law  and  her  daughter-in-law  climbing  the 
steeps  as  they  enter  Bethlehem  on  the  east.      The  city  is 
moved  with  the  cry,  "  Is  this  Naomi :  "  now  so  desolate,  —  she 
who,  discontented  with   Bethlehem,  to  better  her  condition 
went  down  to  Moab?     Backsliders  always  return  poor.  .  .  . 
And    here,  again,  the    scene   changes.      The   tall   and  fine- 
looking  among  the  eight  sons  of  Jesse  have  a  commission  in 
the  army,  "and  other  honors.      But  the  boy  David,  the  last 
and  the  least,  scarcely  counted  by  his  father,  is  sent  away  to 
keep  the  sheep,  among  those  deep  and  yawning  gorges  where 
the  Moabites  invade  on  one  side,  the  Philistines  on  tlie  otlier, 
and  bears  and  lions  spring  out  of  the  surrounding  caves  to 
devour  both  the  sheep  and  the  shepherd.     But  here  David 
gained  both  grit  and  grace.     Here  he  tuned  his  lyre,  which 
at  length  proved  mightier  than  his  throne,  and  made  these 
awful  solitudes  resound  to  the  beautiful  pastoral,  "  The  Lord 
is  my  shepherd,  I  shall  not  want."     And  as  from  another 
crag  he  looked  up  to  the  moon,  walking  in  her  brightness, 
he  sang,  "  The  heavens  declare  the  glory  of  God."     Dangers 
which  invaded  the  flock  found  his  frame  packed  with  fibre, 
and    his    soul    with    courage.       God    often    makes    men    in 
obscurity  and  perils.    .    .    .    Somewhere  on  the  area  of  this 
rural  village  was  the  cradle  of  human  salvation.     Hete  the 
"  Ancient  of  days  "  became  the  Infant  of  days.  .  .  .  Some, 
with  much  ingenuity,  have  endeavored  to  mark  out  the  spot 
of  Christ's  birth,  as  well  as  the  house  of  Jesse  where  David 
was  born.     But  the  thread  is  too  fine.     All  we  know,  and  all 
we  need  to  know,   is  the   simple  historic   truth  which  the 
Bible  tells  us.   .   .   .   But,  notwithstanding  all  the  incrusta- 
tions of  superstition,  Bethlehem  is  "  beautiful  for  situation," 
and  blessed  in  its  associations.  ... 


TRAVELS  IN   THE  EAST.  155 

Convent  of  jNIar  Saba, 

As  we  made  our  careful  way  clown  from  Bethlehem,  our 
dragomen  and  muleteers  wantonly  dashed  through  a  field  of 
wheat,  treading  down  and  injuring  the  grain.  I  could  not 
blame  the  Arab  owner  for  his  rough  sounds  and  threatening 
gestures.  Even  Boaz,  the  early  proprietor  of  the  iield,  could 
not  have  held  his  peace.  But  the  traveler  cannot  be  as  care- 
ful of  public  interests  as  though  he  were  assisted  in  his  jour- 
ney by  good  roads  and  good  fences. 

Something  more  than  half  a  mile  eastward,  we  stopped  to 
dine  in  a  plain  dotted  with  olives,  and  fertile  as  in  the  days 
of  the  fair  gleaner.  We  looked  away  to  the.  wild  glens  of 
the  south,  that  once  resounded  to  the  harp  of  the  sweet 
singer  of  Israel,  and  thought  of  the  shepherds  that,  a  thou- 
sand years  later,  kept  watch  of  their  flocks  by  night  in  the 
same  pastures,  and  heard,  in  the  mysterious  arches  of  the 
sky,  a  choir  of  angels  chanting,  "  Glory  to  God  in  the  high- 
est ;  peace  on  earth,  and  good-will  to  men." 

Passing  by  some  massive  and  well-wrought  remains  of  a 
Greek  church,  the  eastern  headland  of  Bethlehem  faded  from 
our  sight,  as  we  threaded  our  narrow  and  rugged  way,  now 
rising  and  now  descending  dizzy  and  difficult  steeps.  Caves 
on  either  side  looked  out  upon  us  like  portholes,  where  the 
bat  now  flits  in  dust  and  dimness,  and  the  jackal  and  robber 
find  a  retreat.  As  we  approached  the  banks  of  the  Kidron, 
the  face  of  Nature  put  on  a  sterner  and  gloomier  grandeur. 
.  .  .  Such  is  the  "wilderness  of  Judaea,"  where  Elijah  was 
fed  by  the  ravens,  that  ill-boding  bird.  Here  the  Baptist 
wandered  in  camels'  liair,  and  ate  locusts  and  wild  honey. 
In  this  wilderness,  with  the  wild  beasts,  Jesus  was  forty  days 
tempted  of  Satan,  and  the  angels  ministered  unto  Him. 

Gorges  grew  more  terrible  as  we  went  on,  and  culminated 
at  the  crag  of  Mar  Saba.  The  old  structure  is  an  irregular 
mass  of  walls,  towers,  chambers,  chapels,  all  clinging  to  the 
sides  of  a  huge  precipice.  At  a  point  where  we  could  look 
down  upon  the  dome  and  the  clocked  turret  which  crowned 
the  convent,  we  left  our  horses,  and  passed  through  a  wide 


156  REV.   HORACE   EATON,   D.D. 

entrance  to  a  heavy  iron  door.  When  the  authorities  within 
were  satisfied  that  we  were  neither  ^Nlohannnedans  nor 
women,  the  heavy  gate  opened,  and  Ave  wound  our  way 
down  two  hundred  and  fifty  steps,  through  arches,  recesses, 
caverns,  dining-lialls,  tombs.  These  were  in  different  eleva- 
tions. Tfie  church  and  altars  are  ricli  in  sculpture  and 
paintings,  in  silver  and  gold  ornaments.  Hebron  and  Beth- 
lehem were  filthy  in  their  sacred  places.  Mar  Saba  is  swept 
and  garnished.  Sixty-five  inmates  were  there,  sluit  in  for 
life,  —  some  quite  aged  men,  all  sleek,  fat,  and  pleasant-look- 
ing, in  the  daily  business  of  doing  nothing. 

This  is  a  Greek  convent,  and  under  the  patronage  and 
wing  of  tlie  Kussian  government.  I  could  understand  as 
mucli  of  their  Greek  as  they  could  of  ni}'  English,  and  yet 
some  kind  words  and  kind  acts  passed  between  us.  Their 
coats  are  camels'  hair,  their  hats  a  rimless  stovepipe.  They 
go  barefoot.  Meat  never  touches  their  teeth.  Bread  and 
salt  is  their  daily  repast.  They  are  teetotallers.  Upon  no 
plea  whatsoever  is  a  woman  permitted  to  enter  the  place. 
Our  ladies  were  allowed  to  linger  at  a  safe  and  awful  dis- 
tance, while  the  men,  the  meanest  of  them,  were  welcome 
to  the  hospitalities  of  Mar  Saba.  Miss  Martineau  knocked 
at  this  gate,  and  was  silently  pointed  to  a  tower  erected  at  a 
distance,  where,  solitary  and  alone,  she  j^assed  the  night. 
There  was  a  sting  in  the  Parthian  shot,  when  she  said  on 
leaving,  "  The  monks  are  too  holy  to  be  hospitable."  There 
was  one  gleam  amid  these  dim  shadows  that  amounted  to 
fun.  A  few  of  the  monks  were  amusing  themselves  by  feed- 
ing flocks  of  gay  and  cheerful  birds  of  bright  plumage  and 
sweet  voices.  The  birds  loved  the  crumbs ;  but  they  were 
not  monks.  They  had  their  nests  on  crags  without  the  con- 
vent. A  valuable  library  of  old  Greek  manuscripts  has  a 
place  here.  The  superior  pointed  me  to  a  vault  where  he 
said  there  were  fourteen  thousand  skulls  of  martyrs  slain  by 
the  Mohammedans. 

We  stood  by  the  tomb  of  ]\Iar  Saba,  born  in  Cappadocia, 
A.D.  439.  He  chose  for  his  ascetic  life  this  awful  solitude 
where    Elijah   and   the    Baptist    sojourned.      Legend   runs 


TRAVELS  IN   THE   EAST.  157 

thus:  the  suint  found  a  rough  and  fearful  den  then  occu- 
pied by  a  lion.  The  apostle  of  the  ancliorites  intimated  to 
the  king  of  beasts  that  higher  uses  demanded  his  accommo- 
dations. The  lion,  transformed  to  a  lamb,  left  his  lair,  and 
Mar  Saba  entered  in,  and  this  cave  became  the  germ  of  the 
monastery,  now  more  than  thirteen  hundred  years  old.  A 
palm-tree  growing  within  one  of  the  courts  is  said  to  have 
been  planted  by  the  patron  saint.  The  sanctity,  fastings, 
and  great  age  of  Mar  Saba,  for  he  died  at  ninety-four, 
inspired  the  confidence  of  multitudes.  Fourteen  hundred 
sought  to  him  at  one  time. 

The  ascetic  spirit  started  with  Justin  Martyr.  I  looked  in 
upon  the  cave  at  Bethlehem  where  he  lived  and  studied  for 
thirty  years,  and  gave  the  world  the  Vulgate  version  of  the 
Bible.  From  that  time,  monasticisni  has  been  a  strong  ele- 
ment in  the  Eastern  churches.  To  get  the  victory  over 
self  and  the  world,  men  have  betaken  themselves  to  soli- 
tude, to  contemplation,  to  painful  inflictions  and  austeri- 
ties. So  taught  the  Vedas,  the  sacred  books  of  Buddliism. 
Alexander  found  this  class  of  men  along  the  banks  of  the 
Indus.  They  lived  in  caves,  woods,  mountains,  in  poverty, 
celibacy,  abstinence,  silence.  But  we  have  reason  to  believe 
that  self-help,  self-Avill,  self-glory,  was  the  deep  tap-root  in 
many  a  mind. 

The  same  is  true  of  the  Christian  anchorite.  Our  blessed 
Lord  prayed  to  the  Father,  not  that  He  should  take  His  dis- 
ciples out  of  the  world,  but  that  He  would  keep  them  from 
the  evil.  We  are  not  to  abandon  the  world,  but  to  over- 
come the  world.  The  spirit  is  to  gain  victories  over  the 
flesh,  reason  over  sense,  truth  over  error.  This  is  done,  not 
by  depreciation  of  the  body,  the  family,  the  state,  but  by 
exhibiting  truth,  righteousness,  holiness,  in  all  these  divinely 
constituted  relations.  ,  Elijah,  from  necessity,  had  his  lonely 
cell  by  the  brook  Cheritli ;  but  Elijah  was  no  hermit  on 
Mount  Carmel.  In  the  final  interview,  the  practical  Martha 
was  the  first  to  meet  the  Saviour.  It  was  she  who  made  the 
appeal  to  her  contemplative  sister  Mary,  "The  Master  is 
come,  and   calleth   for   thee."      Jesus,   the    example    of  all 


158  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

believers,  was  no  recluse.  While  St.  Simon  stood  on  one 
foot,  perched  on  a  pillar  year  after  year,  Jesus  used  both  His 
feet  in  going  about  doing  good  among  all  classes  and  both 
sexes.  The  monk  of  Mar  Saba,  moping  and  mumbling, 
counting  his  beads  in  his  rocky  den,  is  not  the  model  saint, 
but  Paul,  let  down  the  walls  of  Damascus  in  a  basket,  and 
straightway  preaching  boldly  in  the  name  of  the  Lord  Jesus. 
Running,  living  water  is  tlie  purest.  jNIonasticism  is  the 
child  of  the  desert,  of  gloom  :  it  comes  down  from  the  caves 
of  the  dark  ages.  The  man  "out  of  the  tombs,  exceeding 
fierce,"  when  cured,  innocently  desired,  for  his  own  comfort 
and  safety,  that  he  might  be  with  Christ  where  he  was.  He 
was  bidden  to  go  home  to  his  kindred  and  neiglibors,  and 
tell  what  great  things  the  Lord  had  done  for  him.  .  .  . 

The  Dead  Sea. 

Our  way  from  the  convent  lay  along  the  edge  of  a  terrible 
crevasse.  The  opposite  wall,  piled  up  by  nature  in  blocks 
four  feet  in  thickness,  three  hundred  feet  high,  was  honey- 
combed with  caves  dug  out  by  human  hands,  once  the  home, 
and  now  the  tomb,  of  different  generations  of  unwashed, 
uncombed,  and  unshaven  monks.  What  a  chapter  in  Chris- 
tianity !  .  .  . 

Finding  our  way  down  to  the  bed  of  the  Kidron,  we 
encamped  on  its  green  bank.  Opposite  to  us  were  the  tents 
of  French  travelers.  .  .  . 

l)Ut  there  were  reliefs  and  diversions  on  this  dreary  way. 
While  the  Arabs  and  other  inhabitants  seemed  to  be  desti- 
tute of  the  least  taste  for  trees  and  ornamental  shrubs,  the 
great  Proprietor  has  shown  His  smiles  upon  the  Holy  Land, 
by  scattering  flowers  with  a  profuse  if  not  prodigal  hand 
where  there  is  soil  enough  for  the  root.  Every  level  spot, 
every  hillside,  was  cheered  by  the  silent,  social  joy  of  flowers. 
In  their  varieties  the  blossoms  seemed  pleased  with  each  other. 
The  scarlet  anemone  smiled  on  the  poj^py,  and  those  of  rosy 
hue  on  the  blue  gentian.  They  welcomed  to  their  company 
the  yellow  and  the  purple  flowers  ;  and  all  mingled  tlieir 
tints    and   their   fragrance    as   a   grateful    offering   to    their 


TRAVELS  IN   THE  EAST.  159 

English  and  American  friends.^  The  different  levels  that 
broke  down  toward  the  plain  were  generally  fertile,  and  no 
doubt,  during  the  time  of  Israel's  prosperity,  had  borne  up 
great  harvests.  Here  we  saw  Bedouins  abroad  with  their 
camels,  goatherds  leading  their  flocks,  and  herdsmen  with 
their  cattle ;  and  we  could  realize  how  Lot  in  his  selfishness 
should  covet  and  claim  from  his  venerable  uncle  all  this 
productive  domain.  .  .  .  The  surface  of  the  Dead  Sea  shim- 
mered in  the  reflected  rays.  Beyond  were  the  mountains  of 
Moab ;  on  the  left,  the  Valley  of  the  Jordan.  How  many 
Scripture  names  and  scenes  crowd  the  memory !  .  .  .  But 
from  these  heights  of  Judah  we  must  go  down,  down  more 
than  thirteen  hundred  feet,  below  the  surface  of  the  ocean. 
Flat  after  flat,  terrace  after  terrace,  must  be  reached.  As  in 
going  up  to  Jerusalem,  we  were  wearied  and  disappointed  by 
a  succession  of  hills,  so,  in  going  down  to  the  Dead  Sea, 
steeps  followed  plateau,  and  plateau  steeps,  till  we  were  tired 
and  sick  of  the  repetition.  At  last,  through  a  long,  descend- 
ing plain  impregnated  with  salt,  or  tangled  with  masses  of 
dwarfed  shrubs,  rushes,  tamarisks,  and  oleander,  in  spots 
where  trickle  fresh-water  springs,  our  way  brouglit  us  to  the 
northern  shore  of  the  Dead  Sea.     There  are  piled  masses  of 


1  We  copy  the  following  sentences  on  the  flowers  of  Palestine  from  an 
address  to  the  Sabbath-scliool :  — 

"  It  is  said  that  Solomon  '  spake  of  trees  from  the  cedar  that  is  in  Lebanon 
even  unto  the  hyssop  that  springeth  out  of  the  wall.'  Solomon  was  a  great 
botanist.  It  is  a  pity  we  have  lost  his  treatises  on  plants.  God  is  a  great 
botanist.  He  shows  His  love  of  flowers  because  He  has  planted  the  Holy 
Land  so  full  of  them.  I  did  not  notice  a  house  in  all  Palestine  where  they 
were  cultivating  flowers ;  but  in  the  fields  the  oleander,  the  wild  tulip,  the 
poppy,  the  verbena,  the  rose,  the  daisy,  the  star  of  Bethlehem,  were  all  laugh- 
ing together  in  joyful  and  pleasant  society.  A  species  unlike  our  rose,  but  so 
called  in  the  Bible,  grows  luxuriantly  on  the  Plains  of  Sharon.  Tlie  lily-of- 
the-valley  is  thought  to  be  the  scarlet  anemone,  of  brilliant  hue  and  fine  tex- 
ture, with  five  petals.  They  are  sometimes  called  '  The  Blood  Drops  of 
Jesus.'  So  abundant  are  they,  that  they  color  the  ground.  The  blossom  is 
about  an  inch  across :  some  are  an  inch  and  a  half.  I  intended  to  bring  one 
to  each  of  you  children  of  the  Sabbath-school ;  but  they  all  faded,  and  were 
ground  up  in  my  book,  and  I  was  obliged  to  give  it  up." 


160  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

reeds,  branches  and  trunks  of  trees,  brought  down  by  tribu- 
tary streams,  and  driven  by  tempests  on  the  coast. 

The  wind  was  blowing  from  the  soutli,  and  dull,  heavy 
waves  were  beating  like  hammers  against  the  rocks.  The 
Dead  Sea  is  forty  miles  long  and  nine  miles  wide.  Corru- 
gated and  thunder-scarred  ledges  stand  up,  —  a  wall  on  the 
east  and  west.  An  awful  and  toothlike  barrenness  meets 
the  eye.  .  .  . 

It  is  another  wonder  of  this  lake  that  there  is  no  outlet. 
...  But  do  you  ask  what  becomes  of  the  waters  that  thus 
flow  in  ?  You  will  remember  that  for  seven  or  eight  months 
during  the  year  an  almost  vertical  sun  pours  its  rays  into 
the  gorge,  making  the  Dead  Sea  like  a  boiling  caldron, 
increasing  evaporation  to  such  an  extent  as  to  dr}^  up  the 
waters  faster  in  summer  than  they  run  in,  making  a  variation 
between  the  rainy  and  the  dry  season  of  some  fifteen  feet^ 
Thus  i\\Q  lake  at  high  water  is  many  miles  larger  than  at 
low  water.  The  consequence  of  this  extreme  evaporation 
is  that  the  salts  are  retained,  and  the  water  becomes  heavier. 
One  gallon  of  distilled  water  will  weigh  ten  pounds;  one 
gallon  of  water  from  this  sea,  twelve  and  a  quarter  pounds. 
Eggs  float  on  the  Dead  Sea,  with  one-third  exposed,  Avhile 
they  sink  in  the  waters  of  the  Mediterranean.  A  man  cannot 
sink  in  the  Dead  Sea.  He  will  float  nearly  breast  high  Avith- 
out  the  least  exertion.  Dr.  Robinson  could  never  swim 
before,  either  in  fresh  or  salt  water,  "yet  here  he  could  sit, 
stand,  lie,  or  swim  without  difficulty."  Some  have  thought, 
because  it  was  called  the  Dead  Sea,  nothing  could  live 
around  it,  that  birds  dropped  down  flying  over  it,  and  the 
like.  True,  the  waters  do  not  encourage  vegetation,  nor  do 
fish,  or  any  creature  of  considerable  size,  live  in  its  depths ; 
but  birds  fly  over  it,  and  sometimes  light  upon  it.  The 
water  looks  clear  and  blue.  It  is  bitter  and  nauseous  to  the 
taste,  but  a  tonic  to  those  who  bathe  in  it.  Another  feature : 
at  present  there  goes  "no  galley  with  oars,  neither  does 
gallant  ship  pass  thereby."  The  waves  in  a  strong  wind 
would  thump  heavily  against  the  sides  of  any  craft ;  but 
they  would  subside  quickly  with  the  going-down  of  the 
wind.   .  .  . 


TRAVELS   IN   THE   EAST.  161 


The  Site  of  the  Temple. 

Early  in  the  morning  of  March  31,  18T4,  I  left  my  tent, 
pitched  ontside  the  wall  of  Jerusalem,  near  Jaffa  Gate,  to 
spend  the  day  in  studying  the  ruins  of  the  ancient  temple. 
"Moses"  was  my  guide,  unlike  the  ancient  lawgiver  save  in 
his  age.  He  was  an  old  Jew.  "  His  eye  was  not  dimmed,  nor 
his  natural  force  abated."  He  was  learned  in  the  languages, 
if  not  in  the  law.  He  spoke  in  nine  dialects.  He  was  loqua- 
cious in  regard  to  his  own  history,  and  intensely  attached  to 

his  people Some  thousand  feet  from  these  "  corner-stones," 

west,  are    monuments  of  the  exceeding   grandeur  of   Solo- 
mon's arrangements  and  retinue.     In  his  time,  —  in  Christ's 
time,  —  there  was  a  deep  valley  of  a  hundred  feet  between 
Zion  on  the  west,  and  Moriah  on  the  east.     The  palace  of 
Solomon  was  on  Zion,  called  the  City  of  David.     The  dis- 
tance from  Zion  to  the  temple-wall,  across  this  valley,  was 
350  feet.      Three   times  in   Scripture  a  remarkable  passage 
or  causeway  is  mentioned,  leading  from  the  palace  to  the 
temple.     It  is  referred  to  in  the  visit  of  the  Queen  of  Sheba 
(1  Kings  10  :  5).     This  bridge  is  mentione<l  in  the  siege  that 
Pompey   waged   against    the   city   some    fifty   years   before 
Christ.     Titus,  seventy  years  after  Christ,  at  the  destruction 
of  Jerusalem,  stood  upon  this  bridge,  and  exhorted  the  priests 
at  the  temple  to  surrender,  and  save  their  lives  and  city. 
Now,  it  is  the  delight  of  the  traveler  to  find  the  abutment  of 
this  bridge  as  it  projects  its  massive  stones  from  the  western 
wall  of  Sie  temple  area.     This  abutment  is  near  the  south- 
western corner.     The  profound  acquaintance  of  Dr.  Edward 
Robinson  with  Saracen  and  Arabic  authors,  with  Josephus 
and  the  Bible,  put  him  in  possession  of  the  facts  in  regard  to 
this  buried  bridge  and  the  general  locaUty  of  the  Cyclopean 
rocks  which  were   its  foundation.      He  set  men  to  digging 
and  removing  rubbish,  and  it  was  acknowledged  one  of  the 
greatest  triumphs  in  archaeology,  that  the  place  and  piers  of 
this  bridge  have  l)een  identified.    To  me  there  were  "  sermons 
in  these  stones."     When  1  came  to  stand   by  these  monu- 
ments, I  called  to  mind  the  description  Dr.  Robinson  gave  of 


1G2  REV.   HORACE   EATON,   D.D. 

them  to  our  class  in  the  Theological  Seminary,  In  1840. 
Noble  kings  and  princes  of  Israel  walked  over  this  bridge. 
Doubtless  Jesus  and  His  disciples  passed  and  repassed  here, 
on  their  wa}'  to  and  from  the  tenii)le. 

.  .  .  Following  up  the  wall  of  the  temple,  we  come  to  the 
"Place  of  Wailing."  The  way  was  narrow,  filled  with  vile 
offiil,  weeds,  and  cactus-plants.  It  brought  us  to  a  small 
paved  area  between  modern  houses  on  the  west  and  the 
ancient  wall  of  the  temple  on  the  east.  The  lower  courses 
of  the  wall  are  huge  beveled  stones.  They  were  the  foun- 
dations of  Solomon's  temple.  Here  the  Mohammedan  Gov- 
ernment allows  Jews  of  all  ages  and  nations  to  come  on 
Friday,  and  wail  before  these  solemn  relics  of  their  past 
greatness.  "  They  take  pleasure  in  her  stones."  "•  Their 
eyes  run  down  with  tears."  The  old  man  leaning  on  his 
staff  is  here.  Here  are  the  poor,  the  jiale,  tlie  careworn 
women  and  children.  Some  are  on  their  knees,  chanting 
mournfully  from  the  book  of  Hebrew  prayer.  Venerable 
men  are  reading  aloud,  with  moaning  voices,  from  the 
Lamentations  of  Jeremiah.  All  have  their  Hebrew  Bibles. 
Some  are  prostrate,  pressing  their  foreheads  and  their  lips  to 
the  earth  ;  some  are  throAviiig  out  their  arms  as  though  they 
Avould  clasp  the  stones  to  their  bosoms;  some  cling  closely  to 
the  wall,  kissing  these  old  stones,  which  they  have  actually 
worn  with  their  lips. 

From  Jericho  to  Jerusalem. 

A  kind  of  elegiac  sympathy  with  Christ  grew  upon  my 
spirit  as  I  followed  the  steps  of  His  last  journey  from  Jericho 
to  Jerusalem.  Not  a  palm  remains  to  the  "•  City  of  Palms." 
The  sycamore  that  Zaccheus  climbed  has  passed  away ;  but 
the  fountain  that  Elijah  cleansed,  the  brook  Cherith,  by  the 
side  of  which  Elijah  Avas  fed  by  ravens,  the  valley  where 
Achan  was  stoned,  the  savage  ravine  where  thieves  even 
now  lie  in  wait  for  travelers,  and  the  village  of  P)ethany, 
still  mark  our  Saviour's  steps  as  He  went  U])  to  be  crucilled. 
At  the  angle  of  Olivet  where  the  view  of  the  Holy  City 
burst  upon  the  vision  of  Jesus,  when  with  tears  He  cried, 


TRAVELS  IN   THE  EAST.  163 

"O  Jerusalem,  Jerusalem!"  —  at  this  point  in  the  way  a 
thonsand  sacred  associations  thronged  my  memory.  A  sigh 
of  the  weeping  harp  came  to  my  ear.  "From  the  daughter 
of  Zion  all  her  beauty  hath  departed."  Not  a  tree  or  vine 
broke  the  drear  of  these  colorless  walls.  Once  they  were 
bulwarks,  —  now  frail  and  falling ;  once  six  miles  in  extent, 
—  now  two  ;  once  the  people  were  numbered  by  hundreds  of 
thousands,  —  now  there  are  less  than  fourteen  thousand.  The 
site  of  the  ancient  temple  is  desecrated  by  a  Mohammedan 
mosque.  A  crescent  banner  waves  from  the  Tower  of  David. 
The  imprecations  of  the  crucifiers  are  realized :  "  The  curse 
be  upon  ns  and  upon  our  children."  The  sombre  darkness 
of  tlie  Saviour's  dying  hour  still  lingers  on  the  landscape. 
The  Vale  of  Hinnom,  the  Valley  of  Jehoshaphat,  the  Pool 
of  Siloam,  "  the  town  of  Martha  and  Mary,"  all  speak  of  the 
Saviour's  closing  sojourn  on  earth. 

To  one  searching  for  truth,  the  decrees  and  opinions  of 
men  and  monks  are  not  so  clear.  My  most  devout  guide  led 
me  along  a  steep  and  winding  street  called  the  "  Via  Dolo- 
rosa." Here  he  assured  me  Christ  bore  His  cross ;  here  was 
the  staircase  leading  to  the  Judgment  Hall ;  there  Pilate 
cried,  "Behold  the  man  !  "  next  the  house  of  Dives;  then  the 
spot  where  Jesus  fell  under  His  cross,  and  where  a  blessed 
woman  gave  Him  a  handkerchief  to  wipe  His  bleeding  brow; 
then  the  print  of  the  Saviour's  hand  in  the  wall,  as  He  thrust 
it  out  to  save  Himself  from  falling. 

Come  we  at  length  to  the  Church  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre^ 
partly  above  ground,  mostly  made  up  of  chambers  and  grot- 
toes dug  in  the  solid  rock.  Here  are  the  sockets  in  which 
the  three  crosses  were  fixed,  and  the  pillar  where  the  Saviour 
was  beaten  with  rods.  Here  is  Golgotha,  the  tomb  of  Joseph, 
tlie  sepulchre  of  Melchizedek,  "  the  centre  of  the  world," 
and  "the  grave  of  Adam."  For  the  convenience  of  trav- 
elers, all  are  crowded  into  the  circle  of  a  few  rods  in  the 
very  heart  of^  the  city.  But  the  reader  of  the  Bible  remem- 
bers tha,t  the  place  of  the  crucifixion  was  "  without  the  wall," 
when  the  walls  were  three  times  the  extent  of  the  present. 
Pious  frauds  do  not  minister  to  devotion. 


164  REV.   HORACE  EATON;   D.D. 

Garden  of  Gethsemane. 

liat  there  is  one  spot,  which,  without  a  doubt,  may  be 
identified.  From  St.  Stephen's  Gcate  I  took  my  way  down 
the  eastern  declivity,  thirty-three  rods,  to  the  bed  of  the 
Kidron  ;  then  across  the  valley,  twenty-seven  rods,  to  the 
north-west  corner  of  an  enclosure  some  nine  rods  square,  or 
half  an  acre  in  extent.  Here  the  Garden  of  Gethsemane 
welcomed  me  to  its  solemn  stillness,  and  I  gave  myself  up  to 
reading  the  narratives  of  tlie  evangelists  and  to  such  medi- 
tations as  the  spot  of  tlie  Ivedcemer's  suffering,  and  the 
very  earth  tluit  absorbed  His  bloody  sweat,  were  calculated 
to  awaken  and  cherish.  My  stay  in  the  Garden  on  that 
Sabbath  day,  beyond  the  Cedron,  was  one  of  the  focal 
moments  of  my  life.  Dumb,  unbribed  monuments  testified 
to  the  awful  facts  that  once  transpired  here.  Nature,  his- 
tory, prophecy,  reflected  interest  upon  my  musings.  It  is  at 
the  foot  of  the  Mount  of  Olives.  Eight  ancient  olive-trees 
still  survive.  If  not  the  same  trunks,  they  may  have  sprung 
from  the  old  roots  of  the  ancestral  trees  that  waved  over  the 
Son  of  God  in  prayer.  Tlie  spot  where  Jesus  prayed  I  know 
not:  I  might  have  knelt  on  the  same  ground.  Tlie  very 
place  where  the  disciples  slept,  where  Peter  drew  the  sword, 
where  Judas  gave  the  treacherous  kiss,  Ave  cannot  identify; 
but  we  knoAv  that  the  traitor  and  his  band  here  came  out 
against  Him,  and  that  Jesus  went  from  Gethsemane  to  Cal- 
vary. The  very  name  Gethsemane  means  "  oil-press,"  and  is 
significant  of  the  Saviour's  agony.  It  was  in  a  garden  that 
the  powers  of  evil  overcame  the  first  Adam.  In  a  garden 
the  powers  of  evil  were  overcome  by  the  second  Adam. 
Gethsemane  still  echoes  the  sufferings  of  Jesus,  the  justice 
of  God,  and  the  vilcness  of  sin.  In  Gethsemane,  God  con- 
demned sin,  not  simply  as  a  moral  defect,  a  physical  misfor- 
tune, but  as  that  abominable  thing  which  His  soul  hateth. 
Through  Gethsemane  we  pass  from  condemnation  to  forgive- 
ness, from  Paradise  lost  to  Paradise  regained.  .  .  . 


TRAVELS  IN   THE  EAST.  165 


Nazareth. 


The  private  dwellings  and  public  edifices  of  Nazareth 
cleave  to  the  roots  of  the  hills  on  the  western  side  of  a 
mountain-glen,  or  basin,  verdant  with  wheat-fields,  gardens, 
cactus,  olive-yards,  and  orange-trees.  Back  of  the  cit}^  to- 
A^^ard  the  west,  is  a  table-land,  from  which,  looking  south- 
ward, can  be  seen  the  great  war  plain  of  Esdrselon;  then, 
farther  on,  Carmel,  as  he  pushes  out  his  feet  into  the 
sea ;  to  the  south-east,  Gilboa,  Little  Ilermon,  the  ruins  of 
Jezreel,  Shunem,  Nain,  Endor,  the  summit  of  Tabor,  and, 
beyond,  the  gorge  of  the  Jordan,  the  mountains  of  Gilead; 
northward,  over  the  hills  and  lakes  of  Galilee,  Hermon,  with 
its  crown  of  snow.  From  very  hate  of  the  Nazarene,  no  Jew 
resides  here.  Napoleon,  after  defeating  twenty-five  thousand 
Arabs  at  the  foot  of  Tabor,  climbed  to  this  peaceful  lap  in  the 
hills,  and  confessed  that  Jesus  was  the  greater  conqueror. 

As  we  rode  into  Nazareth,  the  shadows  were  lengthening 
over  the  plain.  Camels,  cattle,  donkeys,  sheep,  goats,  —  a 
heterogeneous  flock,— were  gathering  in  from  their  pasturage 
on  the  hillsides.  From  abundant  rains  the  whole  landscape 
was  unusually  green.  It  was  Saturday  night.  Save  the 
tones  of  the  convent  bell,  all  seemed  lulled  to  stillness. 
Our  Arabs,  our  mules,  as  well  as  ourselves,  rejoiced  in  the 
prospect  of  a  Sabbath's  rest  in  this  sanctuary  of  nature. 
Our  tents  were  pitched  under  the  shadow  of  the  sycamore 
and  the  cypress,  and  we  soon  sank  into  the  arms  of  sleep. 
The  next  morning  I  was  up  with  the  lark.  I  hurried  first  to 
the  ''  Fountain,"  the  only  source  of  water  to  the  entire  val- 
ley. It  was  Easter  Sunday,  and  girls  and  Avomen,  dressed  in 
their  best  attire,  came  in  with  pitchers  upon  their  heads  for 
water.  These  pitchers  hold  from  ten  to  twenty  quarts. 
The  scene  around  the  fountain  was  racy  with  life  and  with 
strife. 

Next  I  followed  the  herdsmen  as  they  drove  back  the 
mixed  multitude  to  their  pastures  on  the  surrounding  hill- 
tops. Though  alone,  I  was  not  alone,  for  I  felt  that  Jesus 
was  with  me  to  show  me  this  and  that  summit,  this  and  that 


166  REV.    HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

aspect  of  the  landscape,  this  and  tliat  flower  that  once 
cheered  and  diverted  His  childliood  and  youth,  while  for 
thirt}'  years  He  dwelt  in  this  cradle  of  divinity.  I  can 
recall  no  early  walk,  no  meditation  before  breakfast,  so  full 
of  interest  and  profit. 

During  the  day  we  had  a  season  of  worship  in  the  Mission 
Church.  I  attempted  to  preach,  and  took  for  my  text  the 
story  of  Christ's  return  to  Nazareth,  "where  he  had  been 
brought  np."  Here  in  this  Nazareth,  by  poverty,  by  labor, 
by  a  pious  home,  by  the  Holy  Scriptures,  by  the  holy 
Sabbath,  by  tiie  Hol}^  Spirit,  the  Holy  Child  was  educated, 
developed.  "Here  He  grew  in  stature,  in  wisdom,  in  favor 
with  God  and  man."  Far  away  from  nniversitics,  from 
libraries,  from  academic  groves,  He  studied  men,  nature,  the 
Hebrew  and  Greek  Scriptures.  While  in  the  bosom  of  this 
sweet  and  flowery  retreat.  He  dwelt  in  the  bosom  of  His 
Father,  and  Avas  j)repared  to  go  forth,  "a  light  to  lighten 
the  Gentiles,  and  the  glory  of  God's  people  Israel." 

"Those  thrice  ten  years!  —  tlieir  record  wlio  may  tell, 

Wliich  Jesus  spent  unnoticed  or  unseen, 
Save  by  the  eye  of  those  who  loved  Him  well. 

And  knew  Him  as  the  gentle  Nazarcne  ? 
Oh  might  I  read  the  thoughts  and  track  the  ways 
Of  Him  on  whom  the  angels  bent  their  gaze ! " 

The  Lake  of  Gennesaret. 

The  scenery  around  mountain  lakes  rarely  fails  to  inspire 
an  enchantment  that  delights  the  beholder.  Lake  Leman 
in  Switzerland  attracts  the  elite  of  Europe,  as  swallows  to 
their  summer  home.  The  lochs  of  Scotland  are  tiie  bright 
spots  in  their  Highlands.  Windermere  in  Westmoreland 
has  been  the  home  of  British  poets,  —  Wordsworth,  Cole- 
ridge, and  Mrs.  Hemans.  Along  the  lakes  of  Killarney  have 
reveled  the  wit  and  genius  of  Irish  romance  and  song.  But 
of  all  the  beautiful  water-sheets  of  earth,  none  have  ever 
charmed  my  imagination  and  heart  like  "  deep  Galilee."  On 
the  6th  of  April,  1874,  after  a  ride  of  some  twenty  miles  on 
horseback,  from  Nazareth,  around  by  the  top  of  Tabor,  as 


TRAVELS  IN   THE   EAST.  16T 

the  sun  was  setting,  I  stood  on  the  mountain-rim  that  sur- 
rounds this  h^ke.      The  Lake  of   Galilee,  also    called    Gen- 
nesaret   and   Tiberias,  is   thirteen  miles  long,  six  wide.     Its 
shore  is  white  and  pebbly.     Back  of  that  comes  a  belt  of 
greensward  or  shrubbery,  variegated  by  gardens  and  wheat- 
fields,  gradually  ascending  some  three  hundred  feet.     Then 
the  landscape  recedes  to  adjacent  mountains.     Going  north 
on  the  western  shore,  at  Magdala  the  high  bank  slopes  down, 
and  spreads  out  into  a  beautiful  plain,  reaching   on   north- 
ward around  the  lake,  and  forming  a  crescent  some  three  or 
four  miles  long,  and  more  than  a  mile  wide  in  the  middle. 
This  is  called  in  the  New  Testament  the  "  Land  of  Gennes- 
aret."      No  spot  on  earth  is  more  fertile;    and  in  the  time 
of    Christ's  sojourn    there  the  whole    region    swarmed  with 
people,  and  was  dotted  all  over  Avith  flourishing  towns  and 
cities.     On  this  section  of  the  coast  were  situated  Western 
Bethsaida,  Chorazin,  Capernaum.    Across  the  eastern  shore  I 
could  see  what  was  once  the  territory  of  Og,  King  of  Bashan, 
then  the  possession  of  the  tribe  of  Manasseh.     Through  the 
deep  rents  in  the  high,  steep  banks  of  the  eastern  side,  rushes 
at  times  the  cold  air  from  the  snows  of  Hermon,  and  sweeps 
in  sudden  tempests  across  the  water.     As  I  first  came  in 
sight  of  the  lake,  the  sun  was  going  down  over  the  great 
western  sea,  and  the  light  was  reflected  askance  from    the 
glassy  surface  of  Gahlee,  now  rocked  to  sleep  in  its  moun- 
tain cradle.  ...  In  one  of  the  coves  I  saw  shoals  of  fish, 
and  an  Arab  casting  a  net;    and   the   thought    crossed   my 
mind,  perhaps  this  is  the  very  spot  where  the  call  ^  of  the 
disciples  and  the  recall^  of  Peter  took  place.     The  waters  are 
pure,  and  abound  with  fish.    In  this  lake  I  swam  where  Peter 
sank. 

Streams  from  Lebanon. 

The  sublime  height  that  stands  as  a  bound  and  barrier  on 
the  north  of  Israel  is  fitly  called  by  the  Arabs,  Gebel  Esh- 
sheik.     Lebanon  is  a  sheik  among  the  mountains.  ...  It 


1  Matt.  4 :  18,  19.        "  John  21. 


168  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

was  the  grief  of  Moses,  as  he  sank  into  his  unknown  grave 
in  the  hind  of  JNIoab,  that  he  could  not  "go  over  and  see  that 
good  hind,  that  goodly  mountain  and  Lebanon."  I  was  pass- 
ing from  the  River  Jordan  to  Jericho  when  I  caught  my  first 
sight  of  Lebanon.  Up  the  long  vista  of  the  valley,  beyond 
the  Sea  of  Galilee,  to  the  head-springs  of  the  Jordan,  the 
Mont  Blanc  of  Palestine  lifts  its  cool  and  serene  brow. 
As  I  ascended  other  peaks,  as  I  advanced  farther  north,  the 
same  headland  seemed  to  assume  a  personality,  "a  vast, 
silent,  meditative  consciousness,"  that  absorbed  every  be- 
holder's attention  and  thoughts.  Li  my  journey  through 
northern  Galilee  I  encamped,  April  8,  under  Hermon,  the 
highest  ]ieak  of  Anti-Lebanon,  in  sight  of  the  old  city,  Abel- 
Beth-^laachah.i  ...  It  was  our  hap  to  pitch  our  tents  near 
a  large  Bedouin  camp.  Between  ten  and  eleven  in  the 
evening,  the  barking  of  dogs  and  the  firing  of  guns  aroused 
us  from  sleep.  Even  our  Arabs  and  dragomen  were  fright- 
ened, and  armed  themselves  for  a  hostile  encounter.  A  few 
were  so  unwise  as  to  fire,  under  the  pretence  of  showing  that 
we  were  not  altogether  unarmed.  The  night  wore  away  under 
dubious  apprehensions.  The  morning  brought  to  us  quiet 
and  some  shamefacedness.  The  sounds  we  heard  were  those 
of  mirth,  and  not  of  anger.  An  only  and  esteemed  daughter 
of  the  venerable  sheik  had  been  given  in  marriage  before 
the  whole  tribe,  by  the  father's  hand,  to  another  sheik,  a 
young  man  worthy  of  her  choice.  When  we  heard  this,  we 
could  but  join  in  the  rejoicings,  and  regret  that  we  were  not 
among  the  guests.  The  next  day  we  passed  by  the  ancient 
cities  of  Dan  and  Csesarea  Philippi,  around  the  head-springs 
of  the  Jordan.  Most  rivers  begin  with  the  trickling  out 
of  water  from  some  little  spring ;  another  joins  it ;  a 
third  brings  its  contribution,  till  a  young  river  is  formed. 
Entirel}' unlike  are  the  sources  of .  the  Jordan.  They  burst 
out  from  under  the  roots  of  IMount  Hermon,  full  grown. 
Hasbany  is  the  most  distant  fountain,  and  guslies  up  clear 
and  cool  from  under  a  bold  and  perpendicular  rock.     This 

1  2  Sam.  20  :  15. 


TRAVELS  IN   THE  EAST.  169 

flows  on  twenty-five  miles,  when  it  unites  with  a  more  copi- 
ous stream  from  Dan.  This,  like  the  fountain  at  Hasbany, 
gushes  out  a  full-grown  river.  At  Dan  we  were  shaded  by 
one  of  tlie  great  "oaks  of  Bashan."  The  Arabs  call  this 
place  Tellekady  ("  the  hill  of  the  judge  ")  '*Dan  "  in  Hebrew 
means  "judge."  See  how  the  old  name  clings  to  the  spot! 
That  night  Ave  encamped  five  thousand  feet  up  the  sides  of 
Hermon,  in  a  mountain  glen.  Wearied  by  the  loss  of  sleep 
the  previous  night,  and  the  hard  climbing  of  the  day,  it  was 
doubly  severe  to  be  robbed  of  rest  another  night.  It  was 
not  the  cry  of  the  jackals  entering  upon  their  evening  sere- 
nade, it  was  not  the  barking  of  dogs,  or  the  firing  of  guns 
from  native  Bedouins,  that  now  deprived  us  of  our  rest;  but 
a  wind  from  the  mountain  wilderness  came  down  the  gorge, 
and  "smote  the  four  corners"  of  our  tents.  With  difficulty 
we  saved  ourselves  from  being  "withered  and  strewn" 
before  the  blast.  In  the  morning  we  must  renew  our  jour- 
ney across  crags  and  fastnesses,  down  four  thousand  feet,  on 
our  way  to  Damascus.  At  evening  we  came  to  an  elysium  of 
rest  and  retreat,  —  Kefr  Hauwar, — surrounded  by  gardens, 
shaded  by  Avalnut,  almond,  and  apricot  trees.  No  dogs,  no 
guns,  no  braying  of  asses,  no  quarrelsome  Arabs,  no  "  windy 
storm  and  tempest,"  disturbed  our  repose.  Most  of  all,  for 
our  comfort,  a  pure  and  living  stream  from  Lebanon  flowed  by 
our  tents,  giving  us  first  cleansing,  then  songs  for  the  night. 
Besides  the  warbling  in  the  trees,  the  waters  kept  up  a  mur- 
muring against  the  rocks  for  obstructing  their  own  lawful 
channel.  This  gentle  strife  did  not  annoy,  but  the  sooner 
lulled  us  to  rest.  Thus,  while  I  enjoyed  a  luxurious  quiet,  I 
could  say  with  the  singer  of  old,  "I  sleep;  but  my  heart 
waketh."  The  livelong  night  my  spirit  was  in  a  sweet 
revery  upon  the  words,  "  Streams  from  Lebanon.".  .  . 


The  physical  geography,  the  face  of  the  country,  in  Pales- 
tine is  singular  and  varied.  In  going  from  the  soutliern 
extreme,  you  may  pass  three  ways.  You  may  go  to  the 
left  (to  the  west),  along  the  maritime  plain  of  the  Philis- 


170  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

tines,  the  Plain  of  Sharon,  around  the  headland  of  Carmcl, 
and  so  on  by  Tyre  and  Sidon ;  or  you  may  turn  to  the  right 
(to  the  east),  and  go  up  tlic  gorge  of  the  Dead  Sea  and 
the  Jordan  hy  Jericho,  and  so  on  to  the  Sea  of  Galilee,  the 
waters  of  IIuleh»or  INIerom  to  Dan,  to  Hermon ;  or,  again, 
you  may  pass  up  through  the  centre  over  the  backbone  of 
the  land,  a  ridge  descending,  with  gorges  and  sjuirs,  on  one 
side  toward  the  Mediterranean,  and  on  the  other  toward  the 
Jordan . 

But  this  difference  in  surface,  in  plain,  mountain,  and  alti- 
tude, affects  the  climate  of  Palestine  more  than  any  other 
land  of  the  same  size.  There  is  no  rain  from  March  to 
November.  In  the  long,  burning  summer,  the  fountains,  the 
streams,  dry  up.  From  every  thing  around,  "^yater  I  "  is  the 
universal  cry.  Water  is  sold  for  a  i)rice.  Nature,  beasts,  men, 
wilt,  wither,  and  look  forward  through  these  seven  scorching 
months  with  longing  for  the  return  of  the  rainy  season. 
Nothing  is  so  musical  as  the  "sound  of  abundance  of  rain." 
First  there  are  mists,  then  clouds,  tlien  rain ;  then  the  land 
is  sown.  Afterward  the  earth  is  drenched.  If  a  full  meas- 
ure of  rain  descend  in  the  winter,  wheat  and  barley  Avill  get 
root  and  strength  fur  a  full  harvest  in  May  or  June,  although 
the  rain  may  cease  by  the  end  of  j\Iarch.  The  time  of  har- 
vest varies  in  different  parts  of  the  land.  The  threshing- 
floors  on  the  Jordan  Valley  are  full  by  the  12tli  of  May,  at 
Hebron  by  the  4tli  or  5th  of  June.  From  November  to 
March  the  weather  alternates  from  rain  to  sunshine.  .  .  . 

It  is  the  great  curse  and  calamity  of  Palestine  that  the 
groves  of  palm  that  once  adorned  her  plains,  and  the  oaks 
that  once  crowned  her  summits,  have  been  cut  down.  Few 
are  found,  like  the  messengers  of  Job,  to  tell  of  the  destruc- 
tion that  has  been  made.  Patches  arc  still  rudely  cultivated 
where  grow  wheat,  barley,  cotton,  rice,  sugarcane,  gourds, 
bananas,  sweet-potatoes,  peas,  cabbage,  onions,  and  other 
jjarden  vejijetables. 

But  the  solemn  reflection,  after  all,  is  the  desolation.  .  .  . 
The  unbelief  of  Israel,  their  disobedience  to  the  God  of  their 
fathers,  their  rejection  and  crucifixion  of  Christ,  have  brought 


TRAVELS   IN    THE   EAST.  171 

down  the   curse  :   "  A  fruitful  land   niakctli   He   barren   for 
the  wickedness  of  them  that  dwell  therein.".  .  . 


.  .  .  Peculiarities  in  the  face  of  the  country  make  peculi- 
arities in  the  imagination  and  si:)eech  of  the  people.  The 
Hio-hlander  is  by  country  different  from  the  Hollander. 
Israel  was  a  solitary  people,  set  apart  to  a  separate  land. 
The  policy,  locality,  and  ancestry  of  Israel  made  them  pecul- 
iar in  thought,  poetry,  religion.  In  Bible  lands  things  have 
stood  still  for  two  thousand  years.  In  Western  countries 
changes  forbid  that  an  aged  man  sliould  know  his  ovrn  birth- 
place after  fifty  years.  But  in  Palestine,  the  dress,  the  modes 
of  travel,  of  cultivating  the  soil,  the  roads,  the  houses,  are 
the  same  as  they  were  centuries  ago.  While  the  rest  of  the 
world  have  been  whirling  along  by  steam,  by  lightning,  the 
camel-trains,  the  tents  of  the  Bedouins,  are  abroad  as  they 
were  in  the  time  of  Isaac  when  he  went  out  to  meditate. 
The  Bible  is  best  read  in  the  light  of  its  own  scenery. 
Sacred  geography  and  sacred  history  go  together.  Physical 
facts  are  the  symbols  of  truth.  In  Palestine  the  Bible  is  the 
best  handbook,  and  Jesus  the  best  Guide.  He  knows  every 
locality ;  He  comprehends  the  scenery,  the  historical  associa- 
tions, the  spiritual  significance  ;  He  has  been  there  before. 

These  earthly  footsteps  of  our  Lord  impress  the  conviction 
both  of  His  divinity  and  humanity.  It  is  the  true  medium 
not  to  look  at  His  divinity  to  the  exclusion  of  His  humanity, 
nor  so  to  magnify  His  humanity  as  to  obscure  His  divinity. 
He  was  God  and  man,  one  unique  personality,  meeting  in  a 
single  consciousness.  "  The  Word  was  made  flesh,  and  dwelt 
among  us."  The  human  was  the  medium  of  the  divine. 
When  the  Son  of  God  built  the  hill  of  Bethlehem,  scooped 
out  the  basin  of  Nazareth,  and  cleaved  the  gorge  between 
Jerusalem  and  Olivet,  it  was  for  the  very  purpose  of  prepar- 
ing the  fittest  place  for  the  birth,  the  growth,  the  death,  of 
the  Son  of  Mary. 

.  .  .  Who  can  doubt  the  history  of  Crispus  Sallust  when 
he  finds  his  name  on  the   charred   and   ruined   habitation 


172  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

recently  uncovered  at  Pompeii?  Some  have  insisted  tliat 
ancient  Troy,  Priam  her  king,  and  Homer,  who  sang  her 
downfall,  were  myths,  mere  legend  and  song.  What  Avill 
these  sceptics  do  with  the  hoary  vestiges  lately  exhnmed  on 
the  site  of  the  ancient  city,  hearing  the  name  of  Priam, 
exhibiting  specimens  of  his  palace  and  the  furniture  that 
adorned  it?  Do  not  these  witnesses,  so  long  silent  and  shim- 
herino-,  now  give  to  Troy,  to  Priam,  "a  local  habitatit)n  and  a 
name  "  ?  So  now  Bethlehem,  Nazareth,  Jerusalem,  remain  the 
solemn,  truthful  monuments  of  the  birth,  the  life,  the  death, 
of  Christ. 

Influence  of  jMohammerlanism  upon  Education. 

.  ,  .  The  traveler  accustomed  to  the  cheerfulness  and  free- 
dom of  Christian  civilization,  in  passing  through  Egypt  and 
Palestine,  feels  himself  under  the  sallow  light  of  an  eclipse, 
tlie  shadow  of  the  raven  wing.  And  as  he  chafes  against  blind 
and  unreasonable  restraints,  he  reaches  around  wildly  for  an 
answer  to  questions  that  push  themselves  upon  his  inquiry  : 
How  did  this  Mohammedan  power  first  gain  its  hold  ?  how 
did  it  extend  its  grasp  from  the  Himalaya  to  the  Pyrenees? 
how  has  it  retained  its  power  for  fourteen  hundred 
years  over  more  than  one  hundred  millions  of  the  human 
race?  and  how  can  this  ])Ower  be  subverted?  True  mental 
culture  in  Egypt  and  Palestine  are  in  close  conflict  with  fos- 
silized error  and  ignorance.  Some  attempt  to  answer  these 
questions  will  bring  out  what  I  have  to  say  upon  education 
in  Egypt  and  Palestine. 

How  did  the  Arabian  prophet  first  gain  his  hold  upon  his 
countrymen?  He  struck  his  roots  in  tlie  right  soil.  In 
Arabia  Petrfea  these  roots  were  indeed  "wi-apt  around  the 
place  of  stones."  Mohammed  was  great  by  nature.  Sinewy, 
sagacious,  electrifying  in  his  person  and  genius,  he  knew,  he 
felt,  his  superiority  over  the  groveling  masses  amund  him. 
He  saw  the  pusillanimity,  the  degradation,  of  their  worship ; 
he  saw  through  and  despised  their  idols.  Alone  he  had 
ranged  the  desert  under  the  stars,  and  looked  witli  adoring 
eye  to  the  silent  immensity.     He  read  the  spirituality,  grand- 


TRAVELS   IN   THE   EAST.  173 

eur,  and  nnity  of  God  from  His  works,  and  the  divinity  stirred 
within.  He  had  listened  to  the  Hebrew  record  and  to  the 
Christian  Scriptures,  and  his  conceptions  of  nature  were  filled 
out  by  those  of  revelation.  He  Avas  of  the  noble  tribe  that 
had  in  charge  the  Caaba,  the  temple  enshrining  the  ''Black 
Stone,"  which  the  children  of  Ishmael  believed  an  angel  had 
sent  down  from  heaven  as  a  tombstone  for  Abraham.  Mo- 
hammed was  a  son  of  Ishmael,  and  hence  a  descendant  of 
Abraliam.  The  Arabs,  then  as  now,  lived  in  tents.  The 
Arab  is  the  child  of  the  desert,  and  so  is  his  horse.  He  buys 
his  wild  freedom  by  exposure  and  alarm.  His  "  hand  is 
against  every  man,  and  every  man's  hand  against  him."  The 
women  are  servants,  to  take  care  of  the  flocks,  the  camels, 
the  tents.  The  young  men  nourish  the  virtues  of  the  soldier, 
and  master  the  bow,  the  javelin,  and  the  cimeter.  These 
Saracens  have  never  been  conquered  on  their  own  soil. 
When  pursued,  the  desert  opens  a  wa}-^  of  escape.  The  Arab 
is  still  by  profession  a  robber.  He  confounds  the  idea  of 
stranger  and  enemy.  He  believes  and  practices  the  creed 
that  the  best  divisions  of  the  world  were  given  to  other 
nations,  in  order  that  the  posterity  of  Ishmael,  the  outlaw, 
might  recover  his  just  right  by  his  sword  and  by  his  bow. 
When  the  Bedouin  discovers  from  afar  a  solitary  traveler, 
with  his  stirrup  he  touches  the  side  of  his  mare,  and  darts 
like  an  arrow  toward  the  stranger,  uttering  the  loud  cry, 
"Undress  thyself!  "  A  ready  submission  entitles  to  mercy. 
Resistance  will  be  likely  to  end  in  blood.  The  Rev.  Mr. 
Crawford,  an  American  missionar}'  at  Damascus,  informed 
me  that  he  was  thus  stripped  naked  by  a  Bedouin  robber, 
and  left  to  find  his  way  home,  some  thirty  miles  across  the 
wilderness. 

Now  JMohammed  was  one  of  these  wild  sons  of  the  desert. 
His  deep  insight,  fiery  eloquence,  and  intrepid  daring,  were 
the  seeds  for  such  soil.  His  system  was  adapted  to  the  taste, 
the  temperament,  of  the  people.  To  his  original  poAvers  and 
persuasiveness  it  was  an  additional  grace,  in  the  estimation 
of  his  uncultivated  countrymen,  that  he  could  neither  read 
nor  write.     With  them,  the  more  ignorance,  the  more  inspira- 


174  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

tion.  To  the  lofty  minds  among  his  people  who  felt  the 
puerilities  of  idolatry,  or  to  those  who  had  been  confused  by 
the  subtleties  of  an  abused  and  corrupted  Christianity,  he 
was  alike  happy  in  presenting  the  simple  unity  of  the  Creator. 
To  the  Jew  he  claimed  to  be  the  descendant  of  Abraham  ;  to 
the  Christian  he  admitted  the  divine  mission  of  Jesus  Christ ; 
to  the  warlike  he  gave  the  sword  as  the  key  to  the  kingdom 
of  heaven ;  to  those  who  groped  in  darkness  for  the  gateway 
of  immortality,  he  painted  in  gorgeous  hues  a  sensual  para- 
dise. His  heaven  was  not  too  holy  for  the  impure,  not  too 
refined  for  the  blunted  apprehension  of  the  ignorant,  not  too 
sober  and  matter  of  fact  for  the  poetic  and  imaginative. 
Gardens  fairer  than  Eden,  watered  by  a  thousand  streams, 
adorned  by  flowers  of  every  hue,  abounding  with  fruits  for 
every  taste,  all  that  an  Oriental  fancy  could  depict,  all  that 
a  luxurious  languor  could  desire,  —  this  was  his  paradise. 

From  this  review  of  the  art,  the  adaptations  of  his  system 
to  his  clime,  to  his  countrymen,  to  the  phases  of  the  times, 
with  such  combinations  of  truth  from  the  Bible,  with  such 
alliance  with  a  powerful  tribe,  an  honorable  family,  with  an 
opulent  marriage,  all  methodized,  appropriated,  fused,  fired 
by  the  genius,  bravery,  enthusiasm  of  the  author,  —  in  view 
oJE  all  these  advantages,  we  may  admit  the  very  moderate 
beginnings  of  the  Arabian  prophet  in  the  Arabian  cities. 

We  come  now  to  the  next  question.  How  did  this  system 
widen  to  such  an  extent?  Three  years,  and  he  had  gained 
thirteen  followers ;  twelve  years,  and  he  had  the  control  of 
Medina,  to  which  his  Hegira  brought  him  in  622.  But  had 
Mohammed  stopped  with  peaceful  and  persuasive  means,  we 
had  never  heard  of  the  impostor.  Such  appliances  to  the 
stupid,  the  obstinate,  the  hostile,  Avere  too  slow,  too  doubtful. 
It  was  not  the  sword  of  the  Spirit,  but  the  veritable  steel, 
that  gave  enlargement  and  victory.  The  sword  was  the 
gospel  of  the  Eastern  reformer.  Witli  this  his  conquests 
began.  His  terms  to  the  blind,  idolatrous  world  were:  "Pro- 
fes's ;  admit  that  there  is  but  one  God,  and  that  Mohammed 
is  His  prophet,  —  and  paradise  is  your  portion.  Cling  to  your 
idols  and  your  errors,  and  your  doom  is  perdition.     We  are 


TRAVELS  IN   THE  EAST.  175 

God's  avengers  to  reduce  His  foes  to  submission.  The  hilts 
of  all  our  ciineters  are  in  His  hands.  The  hero  who  falls  in 
this  cause  is  snatched  to  heaven.  Up,  then,  with  the  crescent 
banner,  dripping  witii  idolatrous  gore.  Let  it  flash  o'er  the 
mountain  and  plain  till  our  sickles  have  gleaned  tlie  earth. 
The  sword  is  the  key  of  heaven  and  hell.  A  drop  of  blood 
spilled  in  the  cause  of  Allah,  a  night  spent  in  arms,  is  of  more 
account  than  two  months  spent  in  fasting  and  prayer.  Who- 
soever falls  in  battle,  his  sins  are  forgiven.  In  the  day  of 
judgment,  his  wounds  shall  be  resplendent  as  vermilion,  and 
odoriferous  as  musk." 

Thus  religious  zeal,  mingling  with  mental  enthusiasm, 
images  of  paradise  and  perdition  floating  before  the  imagina- 
tion, the  love  of  plunder,  victory,  power,  combined  in  the 
storm,  the  whirlwind  of  human  passions,  that  rose  from  the 
sands  of  Arabia,  and,  like  a  sirocco  of  dust  and  darkness, 
swept  one  way  to  the  Ganges,  and  the  other  way  across 
Egypt,  the  northern  states  of  Africa,  passing  the  Straits  of 
Gibraltar,  through  Spain,  to  the  walls  of  Paris ;  and  had  it 
not  been  for  the  heavy  blows  of  Charles  the  Hammer,  on 
the  plains  of  Tours,  a.d.  732,  England,  Scotland,  and  Ireland 
had  fallen  before  the  Saracens,  and  we  to-night  had  been 
the  disciples  of  the  Koran.  .  .  . 

It  is  still  more  wonderful  that  this  system  should  have 
retained  its  hold  for  thirteen  centuries.  ...  It  has  pressed 
like  a  nightmare  upon  the  fairest  portions  of  the  East,  and 
more  than  one  hundred  millions  still  grope  under  its  shadow. 
.  .  .  In  the  first  eruptions  of  Mohammedanism,  like  Vesuvius, 
its  light  was  brilliant  and  lurid ;  but,  as  the  glare  of  conquest 
went  out,  darkness  and  ashes  fell  upon  the  countries  where 
it  had  lield  sway,  smothering  the  pulse  of  intellectual  life 
and  progress,  detaining  education  at  the  same  status  as  it 
found  it  in  the  seventh  century.  After  the  first  dash  from 
its  head-spring,  Mohammedan  civilization  grew  sluggish,  Sty- 
gian, like  the  waters  of  the  Dead  Sea,  stirred  by  no  splash 
of  the  oar,  and  with  difficulty  lashed  into  waves,  even  by  the 
wind  from  tlie  wiVlerne?s.  Egypt  the  mother  of  empires, 
Palestine,    the    land    of   Solomon    and    of   "a   greater    than 


176  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

Solomon,''  have  been  walled  around  by  a  bank  of  darkness, 
too  dense  for  the  sun  to  dissipate,  through  which  no  light- 
nings could  vibrate.  Creep  your  way  through  the  smoke 
and  filth  of  an  Arab  village  ;  pass  along  the  low,  black  tents 
of  the  Bedouin,  —  and  you  will  be  chilled  by  the  sadness 
and  austerity  of  every  face.  Childhood  is  without  a  smile. 
Their  songs  are  dirges.  The  donkey  and  the  camel,  forlorn 
creatures,  keep  their  march  to  a  minor  tune.  In  my  journey 
through  the  land,  save  a  wedding  or  two  to  which  I  longed 
in  vain  for  an  invitation,  all  was  sombre,  —  women  plowing, 
men  lounging,  smoking,  no  shout  of  laughter,  no  glee,  no 
fun.  Two  sportive  sights  did  me  good  like  a  medicine.  0ne 
was  a  young  donkey  kicking  up  its  heels  as  if  in  derision  of 
our  poor  burdened  mules  as  they  passed ;  the  other,  a  flock 
of  kids  frisking,  skipping,  running  "around  the  shepherds' 
tents." 

The  gloom  and  ignorance  so  long  upon  Egypt  and  Pales- 
tine are  legitimate  exhalations  of  the  Koran.  What  is  not 
taught,  say  they,  in  that  sacred  book,  is  profane  :  hence  the 
Islam  faith  repels  modern  discoveries,  science,  progress.  Its 
harness  is  all  breeching.  One  of  the  straps  that  holds  back 
is  the  doctrine  of  a  blind  fate.  It  begets  in  the  minds  of 
the  people  a  stupid  immobility.  Do  tyrants  oppress,  does 
the  small-pox  threaten,  does  the  cholera  appear,  instead  of 
"taking  arms  against  a  sea  of  troubles,"  instead  of  fleeing 
to  vaccination,  instead  of  experimenting  for  a  remedy,  they 
have  but  one  answer,  "  God  has  so  willed  it."  The  poor 
Bedouin,  when  overtaken  by  sickness  in  the  desert,  wraps 
himself  in  his  blanket,  and  lies  down  to  die,  depending  upon 
the  winds  to  sing  his  requiem,  and  to  blow  the  sands  over 
him  for  his  burial. 

Even  from  the  native  schools  this  popular  ignorance  gains 
strength  and  permanency.  The  Koran  teaches  certain  pray- 
ers, penances,  duties.  To  fulfd  these,  they  must  be  known. 
In  cities  and  villages  there  seems  to  be  abundant  means  to 
support  these  schools.  According  to  the  sacred  book,  prayer 
is  one  step  to  heaven,  fasting  is  another,  generous  giving  is 
the  last.     Yi/'hen  a  rich  Mohammedan  is   about  to  die,  and 


TRAVELS   IN   THE   EAST.  177 

has  some  reason  for  qualms  about  his  past  life,  he  makes  all 
sure  by  a  large  bequest  to  the  mosque.  These  sacred  treas- 
ures have  been  collecting  for  centuries.  Vast  foundations 
are  thus  laid  for  schools.  But  these  schools  arc  never 
intended  to  give  more  than  a  very  dim  religious  light.  The 
Koran  is  the  only  text-book  for  the  juvenile  beginner  and 
for  the  graduate  of  the  highest  universit}'.  Coming  away 
from  the  "  tombs  of  the  patriarchs,"  at  Hebron,  upon  v.'hicli 
Moslem  bigotry  does  not  allow  a  Jew  or  a  Christian  to  look, 
I  passed  througli  one  of  the  main  streets,  and  hearing  a 
discordant  noise  in  a  basement-story,  involuntarily  rushed 
down  the  steps  to  ascertain  the  cause  of  such  sounds  of 
distress.  It  Avas  a  Moslem  school.  The  light,  the  air,  might 
have  been  improved.  No  desks,  no  seats.  Two  hundred 
boys  stand  around  an  aged  sheik  in  full  regalia,  —  blue  coat 
and  red  fez.  He  sits  on  the  ground.  His  example  of  a 
violent  see-saw  motion  is  imitated  by  the  boys  as  all  together, 
at  the  top  of  their  voices,  they  read  extracts  from  the  Koran 
written  on  plates  of  tin.  I  was  told  that  in  a  majority  of 
cases,  pupils  do  not  by  this  process  learn  to  spell  and  read 
sentences  of  Arabic  so  that  they  can  understand  any  other 
book.  But  the  pride  of  the  teacher  is  to  turn  out  as  many 
boys  as  possible  who  can  repeat  from  memory  the  largest 
portion  of  the  Koran.  It  is  not  the  object  of  this  educational 
system  to  enlighten  or  expand  the  intellect,  but  simply  to 
bind  the  youth  to  tlie  forms  and  to  the  faith  of  their  fathers. 
When  we  reflect  that  the  girls  are  entirely  left  out  of  the 
schools,  like  the  young  animals  of  tlie  field,  that  half  the 
population  are  excluded  from  all  education,  tlrat  the  noble 
mission  of  woman  in  training  the  young  is  ignored,  is  it  too 
much  to  say  that  these  native  schools  are  an  element  of  that 
cloud  of  darkness  which  enshrouds  the  land?  If  then,  the 
liglit  that  is  in  them  be  darkness,  how  great  is  that  darkness! 
Now  this  school  at  Hebron  is  an  example  of  tlie  pure  unadul- 
terated article.  Hebron,  a  city  of  ten  thousand  inhabitants, 
is  exclusively  jNIohammedan  —  no  mail,  no  telegraph,  no 
railroad,  no  carriage-road,  no  newspaper,  no  printing-press,, 
no  vehicle  save  the  hump  of  a  camel  or  the  bones  of  an  ass/ 


178  REV.   HORACE  EATON,    D.D. 

creeping  along  the  same  bridle-path  over  which  Abraham 
rode  four  thousand  years  ago.  Our  consul  at  ,)cru:-alcin  said 
to  me,  "The  native  schools  of  Palestine  are  not  worth  looking 
after.  There  is  not  one  xVrab  out  of  a  hundred  that  can  read 
or  write." 

By  a  rule  that  crushes  out  enterprise,  by  a  blind  fatalism 
that  extinguishes  a  sense  of  responsibility,  by  a  narrow  sec- 
tarian education,  the  native  mind  in  Egypt  and  Palestine  is 
cramped,  held  back  from  progress  and  expansion.  Methinks 
the  great  Prophet  himself,  in  his  strength  and  originality, 
would  despise  the  results  of  his  own  system.  In  conclusion, 
can  we  find  any  thing  at  work  that  bids  fair  to  break  through 
this  barricade  of  bigotry  and  ignorance? 

Revolution  promises  reform.  This  bombshell  of  revolution 
has  opened  fissures  that  have  sent  vital  currents  into  the 
standing  pool  of  Egyptian  mind.  .  .  . 

In  the  words  of  our  consul  general  at  Cairo,  "-The  Egyp- 
tians are  eager  to  learn,  and  are  susceptible  of  education  to 
a  hifrh  dejrree  :  and,  if  public  instruction  receives  the  official 
encouragement  in  the  future  that  it  has  during  the  past  ten 
years,  Egypt  Avill  soon  rank  with  many  of  the  European 
states  in  educational  attainment.'"  The  revolution,  then,  of 
Mohammed  Ali  and  his  reigning  house,  has  broken  in  upon 
the  blindness  and  torpor  of  the  national  mind  of  Egypt. 

Again  :  modern  i}iventions  and  arts,  started  by  the  activi- 
ties of  a  Christian  civilization,  are  proving  potent  educators. 
They  are  the  disturbers  of  this  Oriental  inertia.  The  whistle 
of  tlie  locomotive  is  waking  u])  the  Rip  Van  Winkles  all 
along  the  Sleepy  Hollow  of  the  Nile.  The  steamboat  is  stir- 
ring the  Dead  Sea  of  Eastern  mind.  The  telegraph  is  send- 
ing electric  shocks  through  the  paralyzed  nerves  of  society. 
Moslems  and  monks  are  arousing,  astonished  to  find  out 
what  has  been  going  on  in  their  long  slumbers.  It  is  cheer- 
ing to  the  traveler  from  the  New  World  to  look  on  a  train 
of  cars  from  the  shore,  meeting  a  train  of  camels  from  the 
desert ;  on  one  side  to  see  a  woman  spinning  from  a  distaff 
she  holds  in  her  hand  the  fine  linen  of  Egypt,  as  in  the  time 
the  tabernacle  was  built,  and  on  the  other  to  hear  the  click 


TRAVELS  IN   THE  EAST.  179 

of  a  Singer's  sewing-machine.  As  kerosene  from  Titusville 
is  lighting  every  night  tlic  cities  of  Egypt  and  Palestine,  and 
even  the  tent  of  the  Bedouin  far  out  in  the  desert,  so  ideas 
from  the  inventions  of  the  New  World  are  gleaming  over  the 
same  lands.  The  American  plow  becomes  a  preacher,  the 
printing-press  a  missionary. 

Modern  commerce  is  also  a  great  educator  in  Egypt.  It 
brings  light  and  good-will  on  its  white  wings.  It  has  broken 
through  the  Isthmus  of  Suez.  What  Alexander  and  Napo- 
leon only  prophesied  of,  modern  gold  and  enterprise  have 
achieved.  Commerce  is  a  true  civilizer;  Clinton  and  Less- 
eps,  the  great  apostles. 

But  the  most  hopeful  influences  for  the  education  of  mind 
in  Egypt  and  Palestine  are  tlie  schools  j^la^ited  hy  the  churches 
of  America  and  Great  Britain.  Gold  and  intellect  have  been 
devoted  to  this  work.  Liberal  and  enlightened  in  their 
instruction,  these  schools  have  proved  the  most  direct  gate- 
way to  the  education  of  the  people.  To  the  American  trav- 
eler nothing  is  more  refreshing  than  to  find  these  centres  of 
light.  IMen,  acquaintances  from  our  own  free  country,  are 
cheerfully  bearing  expatriation  and  self-denial  to  dissipate 
the  darkness  and  superstition  of  these  lands  from  which  the 
licht  first  came.  The  armor  of  the  Mohammedans  is  most 
vulnerable  through  science.  The  soul  craves  truth,  expan- 
sion. Even  Mohammedan  parents  love  their  children,  and 
wish  their  advancement.  Young  men  see  their  way  to  suc- 
cess in  life  through  education.  They  pursue  study  as  a 
means  of  influence  and  power.  This  liglit  and  expansion 
disenthrall  the  mind  from  ignorance,  from  old  and  dark  sys- 
tems. It  was  a  wise  policy  of  the  American  missionaries  at 
Beirut  to  begin  the  work  of  education  with  the  children  of 
the  poor  at  the  base  of  the  social  pyramid.  .  .  .  The  natural 
outgrowth  of  these  primary  schools  and  colleges  is  an  active 
and  intellif/ent  press.  Steam-power  is  employed  in  printing 
Arabic  Bibles,  school-books,  monthly  and  weekly  periodicals. 
Beirut  is  a  focus  from  wliicli  to  radiate  truth  over  mountain 
and  vale  far  away,  till  one  hundred  million  of  Arabic-speak- 
ing people  shall  be  reached  by  the  influences  of  science  and 
Christianity.  .  .   . 


180  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

Near  tlie  Capitoline  Hill  in  Rome  there  stands  a  section 
of  an  old  wall,  made  of  the  ancient  Roman  brick.  It  has 
defied  the  storms  of  many  centuries,  and  the  battering-rams 
of  sieges ;  and  yet  time  did  but  cement  it  in  strength  and 
defiance.  But  as  I  passed  by,  I  saw  it  cleaving  asunder. 
Some  time  in  the  past,  a  seed  from  the  live-oak  fell  into  a 
crevice,  and  took  root ;  b}'  its  growth  and  expansive  power 
it  went  on  splitting  and  dividing  particles,  bricks,  masses, 
till  a  seam  was  opened  from  top  to  bottom.  What  chiliads, 
■what  cannon,  could  not  do,  Mas  achieved  by  the  life  and 
silent  power  of  a  single  seed.  So  these  old,  over-towering 
battlements  of  error  may  survive  revolving  ages,  may  defy 
the  attacks  of  force,  but  will  yield  before  the  vital,  insinu- 
ating, expanding  power  of  truth. 

It  is  the  office  of  the  educator  to  plant  this  seed  of  truth. 


Damascus,  April  13,  1874. 

My  DEAii  Wife,  —  I  have  been  hastening  on  through 
Palestine.  Came  to  Damascus  last  Saturday  night.  This 
morning  I  have  been  making  arrangements  to  visit,  not  East 
Palmyra,  but  ancient  Palmyra.  Rev.  Mr.  Wright,  a  Scotch 
missionary,  has  agreed  to  go  with  me.  There  are  missionary 
stations  within  fifty  miles  of  the  old  city.  To-morrow  I 
expect  to  go  with  Cook's  party  to  Baalbec,  and  hope  to 
return  to  Damascus  by  Saturdaj^  next ;  then  the  next  Tues- 
day morning  Mr.  Wright  and  myself  take  our  Avay  across 
the  desert  to  that  lone  spot,  the  Tadmor  of  the  wilderness. 
So  I  hope  to  see  the  most  sj)lendid  ruins  in  the  world.   .  .  . 

The  Lord  has  been  very  gracious  to  me  since  I  left  home. 
The  lateness  of  my  journey  has  saved  to  me  an  opportunity 
of  travel  through  Palestine.  The  cold  has  held  on,  and  the 
rain  has  made  the  ways  impassable  to  parties  before  ours 
came.  We  are 'the  first  that  have  gone  through.  My  jour- 
ney has  been  rapid ;  my  health  good. 

Remember  me  to  the  sick,  to  the  Sabbath-school,  to  neigh- 
bors —  to  all.  .  .  . 

The  wish  of  liis  heart — to  see  the  first,  the  oldest  Palmyra — was 
denied  him.     Incipient  symptoms  of  Damascus-fever  obliged  him  most 


TRAVELS   IN   THE  EAST.  181 

reluctantly  to  give  up  this  journey.  lie  followed  the  advice  of  physicians, 
and,  leaving  the  tainted  air  of  that  city,  proceeded  at  once  to  Beirut, 
where  he  soon  recovered. 

He  would  greatly  have  enjoyed  a  visit  to  ancient  Ephesus,  but  the 
excursion  was  on  the  Sabbath.  He  remained  in  Smyrna  and  observed 
holy  time. 

From  his  journal :  — 

May  10,  1874.  I  kept  the  Sabbath  aboard  ship  'in  the  har- 
bor of  Smyrna.  Back  of  the  city,  on  a  hill  in  pLiin  sight, 
was  the  monument  of  Polycarp,  a  native  of  Smyrna,  a  dis- 
ciple of  the  apostle  John,  pastor  of  the  church  at  Smyrna, 
put  to  death  in  the  year  1G7,  at  the  age  of  one  hundred  and 
four.  He  was  probably  "the  angel  of  the  church  at  Smyrna," 
to  whom  tlie  apostle  wrote,  "  I  know  thy  works  and  tribula- 
tion and  poverty;  but  thou  art  rich.  Fear  none  of  those 
things  which  thou  shalt  suffer.  Be  thou  faithful  unto  death, 
and  I  will  give  thee  a  crown  of  life."  During  the  persecu- 
tion under  Marcus  Aurelius,  he  was  seized,  and  carried  before 
the  Roman  proconsul  at  Smyrna.  Being  urged  to  curse 
Clirist,  he  replied,  "  Six  and  eighty  years  I  have  served  Him, 
and  He  has  done  me  nothing  but  good  ;  and  how  could  I 
curse  Him,  my  Lord  and  Saviour?  If  you  would  know  what 
I  am,  I  tell  you  frankly,  I  am  a  Christian."  He  was  thrown 
to  the  beasts  of  the  theatre,  and  devoured  for  the  recreation 
of  tlie  assembled  people  ;  but  some  assert  that  he  was  burned 
at  the  stake.  On  Monday  morning  I  went  forth  to  visit  the 
sepulchre.  Over  the  rough  monument  towers  a  splendid 
evergreen,  the  cypress.  I  felt  the  sacredness  of  the  spot, 
and  the  trial  and  triumph  of  the  martyr.  Here  was  the 
theatre,  the  stadium  where  he  suffered.  Wild  beasts  could 
destroy  his  body ;  Ijut  his  name  is  held  in  perpetual  verdure. 


During  liis  delightful  stay  at  Constantinople  he  was  entertained  at 
Robert  College,  at  the  request  of  his  old  friend,  the  founder.  We  have 
no  room  for  quotations  from  lectures  on  that  beautiful  city,  on  "  Six 
Days  in  Athens,"  on  the  "  Catacombs  of  Rome,"  or  for  further  notes  of 
travel,  save  two  short  letters,  the  first  dated  — 


182  liEV.    HORACE   EATOX,   D.D. 

Slough,  Exglaxd,  July  2,  1874. 

My  dear  Wife,  —  Rose  early ;  did  "Windsor  Castle  ;  passed 
to  Eton  College,  thence  to  Morton,  the  home  of  John  Milton  ; 
through  Dachet,  celebrated  by  Shakespeare  in  his  ''  ^lerry 
Wives  of  Windsor."  On  my  way  to  Oxford  I  was  detained 
some  two  hours  and  a  half  at  Slough. 

Signifying  my  regrets  to  the  man  at  the  depot,  he  said, 
"  Take  to  your  feet  by  a  path  through  the  fields.  Two  miles 
will  bring  you  to  Stoke  Pogis,  where  is  the  tomb  of  Gray 
and  the  'country  churchyard'  of  Avhicli  he  sings  in  his 
Elegy."  I  had  already  walked  eight  miles;  but  the  thought 
of  seeing  that  quiet  nook  in  Old  England  pictured  in  Gray's 
Elegy,  made  my  feet  like  hind's  feet,  and  I  was  away, 
through  a  landscajje  of  which  I  cannot  withhold  a  descrip- 
tion. "  The  time,  how  lovely  and  how  still !  "  It  was  near 
the  pensive  hour  of  the  setting  sun.  There  was  the  "  lulled 
tinkling,"  the  lowing  of  the  herds  returning  home.  The 
bells  from  the  curfew  tower  on  Windsor  Castle  were  send- 
ing out  their  chimes  over  the  landscape.  It  was  the  very 
moment  the  poet  described.  The  fields  of  wheat  and  oats 
through  which  I  passed  were  gently  waving  in  the  breeze. 
Hundreds  of  rooks  walked  about  unscared,  upon  the  newly- 
mown  fields.  The  hawthorn  hedges  that  divide  and  adorn 
the  doAvns  have  just  passed  from  the  flower  to  the  thick-set 
fruit,  while  the  sweetbrier  lifts  its  blossoms  above  the  thorn, 
lending  beauty  and  fragrance  to  the  vale. 

Through  such  enchantment  I  made  my  way  from  Slough 
to  Stoke  Pogis.  A  wicket-gate  opens  to  the  copse  that 
shades  the  monolith,  one  side  of  which  bears  the  name  of  the 
gentle  poet.  He  died  1771.  This  monument  was  erected 
by  one  of  the  descendants  of  William  Penn.  The  family  of 
the  Penns  are  buried  here.  Near  by  is  the  ancient  church 
with  its  "  ivy-mantled  tower,"  where  "  the  moping  owl  does 
to  the  moon  complain."  There  are  still  "the  yew-tree's 
shade,"  the  tombless  hillocks  where  "the  rude  forefathers 
of  the  hamlet  sleep." 

As  I  walked  in  this  cemetery,  this  sleeping-place  of  the 
dead,  I  was  alone.     Not  a  house  or  a  living  person  in  sight. 


TRAVELS  IN   THE  EAST.  183 

This  spot,  so  embalmed  in  elegiac  song,  the  noisy  outside 
world  has  not  yet  desecrated.  The  sentiment  of  seclusion 
and  retreat  is  heightened  by  contrast.  In  full  view  is  Wind- 
sor Castle.  The  ample  folds  of  the  British  flag,  floating 
from  the  pinnacle,  declare  that  the  Queen  and  retinue  are 
there  in  state. 

But  the  quiet  of  centuries  rests  upon  the  "country 
churchyard,"  and  the  ancestry  of  its  gifted  poet. 

Edinburgh,  Aug.  4,  1874. 

My  deae,  Wife,  —  Of  all  the  places  I  have  seen  since  I 
left  my  native  shores,  none  seem  so  much  like  home  as  this 
Athens  of  Scotland.  Indeed,  the  hills  in  and  about  Edin- 
burgh much  resemble  those  that  are  in  and  about  Athens  ; 
and  there,  too,  is  the  old  and  the  new  town  quite  as  distinct 
as  in  the  more  distant  city.  Religious  and  educational  insti- 
tutions and  hospitals  abound  here.  Tlie  people  are  staid  and 
self-reliant,  and  controlled  by  high  principle. 

As  I  passed  through  the  cemeteries  of  the  dead,  I  was 
struck  with  the  illustrious  names.  Walter  Scott  was  born 
but  a  few  rods  from  where  I  sit.  They  have  reared  for  him 
the  finest  piece  of  monumental  architecture  that  I  have  seen, 
and  it  was  conceived  and  wrought  out  by  a  plain  man,  a 
master-mason,  named  Keep.  This  laboring  man  had  been 
cherishing  thoughts  upon  architecture,  which,  wdien  devel- 
oped, placed  him  ahead  of  any  who  had  given  their  lives  to 
that  line  of  study.  But  here,  as  in  the  case  of  Burns,  was  a 
melancholy  end.  Poor  Keep  no  sooner  forced  himself  up 
into  eminence  by  his  genius  than  the  rich  and  great  began 
to  feast  him,  parade  him,  and  treat  him.  This  diverted  him 
from  that  life  of  industry  and  sobriety  which  he  had  followed. 
He  lost  his  balance,  and,  after  a  night  of  intemperance,  was 
found  a  corpse  in  the  canal.  The  great  evil  of  Scotland  is 
whiskey. 

Moody  and  Sankey  have  done  great  good  here.  How 
wonderful  that  two  American  laymen  should  be  made  the 
instruments  of  working  such  a  reformation  in  this  refined 
capital !    They  came  here  in  simple  but  strong  faitli  in  Christ. 


184  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

...  I  was  especially  instructed  by  witnessing  the  direct, 
earnest,  honest  appeal  of  inquiring  minds  to  the  word  of 
God.  Their  Bibles  were  open  as  the  minister  read  and 
preached  from  the  Scriptures.  The  intellect  so  intent  on 
feeding  upon  the  Word  seemed  to  me  the  key  to  the  pre- 
cious work  of  grace  in  their  hearts.  ...  I  have  greatly 
enjoyed  the  meetings  and  tlie  Christian  fellowslhp  I  have 
found  in  Scotland. 

It  has  been  truly  said  that  traveling  reveals  the  man.  In  the  car  or 
the  steamei",  in  the  hotel  or  the  tent,  it  was  evident  that  Dr.  Eaton's 
was  the  motto  of  the  Christian  gentleman,  "In  honor  preferring  one 
another."  Amid  all  the  inconveniences  of  the  way  he  -was  ever  the 
cheerful,  unselfish  traveling-companion. 

We  have  received  this  letter  from  Dr.  Bancroft  of  Phillips  Academy, 
Andover,  Mass. 

Mrs.  a.  R.  Eatox.  Axdovku,  Mass.,  April,  1881. 

Dear  Madam,  —  On  Lake  Windermere,  in  the  gray  of  a  rainy  morn- 
ing, an  English  gentleman  who  stood  near  me  on  the  deck  of  the  little 
steamer  addressed  me  with  some  indifferent  but  friendly  remark,  and  we 
soon  found  ourselves  mutually  introduced,  and  carrying  on  a  brisk  con- 
versation. He  spoke  of  a  trip  to  Egypt  and  Palestine  in  187-1,  in  which 
he  became  much  attached  to  an  American  gentleman  who  traveled  wdth 
him.  Rev.  Dr.  Horace  Eaton  of  Palmyra,  N.Y.  He  afterward  had  him 
at  his  home  in  London,  and  valued  him  among  his  choice  friends.  He 
enforced  what  he  had  said  by  some  comments  on  America  and  Ameri- 
cans, on  certain  other  members  of  the  party,  and  by  incidents  which 
brought  out  the  admirable  qualities  of  your  husband,  his  learning,  his 
good-fellowship,  his  Christian  courtesy,  and  regard  for  others.  This  gen- 
tleman was  Rev.  AViUiam  P.  GriflBth. 

From  a  sermon  preached  the  Sabbath  after  his  return  to  his  people  :  — 
.  .  .  When  I  left  you  on  the  5tli  of  February  last,  I  had 
not  time  or  opportunity  to  tender  my  thanks  for  your  great 
kindness.  Permit  me  now  to  express  my  gratitude  to  the 
cliildren  of  the  Sabbath-school,  to  the  families  and  members 
of  the  congregation,  and  to  those  not  of  the  congregation, 
far  off  and  near,  who  granted  me  the  furhnigh,  and  who  so 
generously  aided  me  in  my  outfit.  Through  your  liberality 
a  sufficient  amount  was  vested  to  meet  the  expenses  of  ray 
journey.     On  this  foundation  I  received  from  the  bank  of 


TRAVELS  IN   THE  EAST.  185 

Messrs.  Cuyler  and  Sexton  a  letter-of-credit.  Tins  wtis  my 
only  financial  dependence.  I  kept  it  near  my  heart.  To  me 
it  seemed  almost  impudent,  to  you  it  would  have  been  at 
least  amusing,  to  have  seen  the  firmness  of  step  with  which 
a  stranger,  a  foreigner,  so  insignificant  in  his  own  name  and 
financial  ability,  could  enter  those  distant  temples  of  ex- 
change, and  demand  the  requisite  gold.  They  did  not  ask 
who  or  what  I  was.  They  looked  alone  at  my  indorser. 
My  confidence  was  in  the  name  of  another,  —  in  the  letter- 
of-credit  I  brought  from  Palmyra.  This  was  my  authority 
in  London,  in  Paris,  in  Egypt,  in  Constantinople. 

But,  dear  hearers,  I  had  a  name,  a  letter-of-credit  far  more 
prevalent.  To  my  letter  from  Palmyra  there  was  a  limit 
beyond  which  I  could  not  draw.  There  were  certain  places 
in  which  I  could  not  draw.  There  were  many  necessities 
which  your  letter  could  not  supply.  But  the  name  of  Jesus, 
and  the  letter-of-credit  which  He  gave,  ran  thus:  "Whatso- 
ever ye  shall  ask  the  Father  in  my  name.  He  will  do  it." 
Jesus  had  died  for  me.  He  had  laid  up  in  the  bank  of 
Heaven  a  credit  on  my  behalf  that  I  could  not  overdraw, 
alike  available  in  every  place  and  for  every  necessity. 

The  name,  the  letter-of-credit  founded  on  the  merits  of 
Jesus,  subordinated  all  the  agencies  of  nature  for  my  safety 
against  the  perils  of  the  ocean,  the  perils  of  the  city,  and  the 
perils  of  the  wilderness.  Still  niore,  His  loving  ;jres(^«ce  con- 
descended to  attend  me  to  the  ship,  to  sail  with  me,  to  be 
my  companion  in  the  cabin,  in  the  tent,  and  by  the  way. 
He  opened  up  to  me  His  own  power  and  majesty  as  mirrored 
in  the  billows  of  the  great  and  wide  sea.  His  hand  raised 
the  stormy  wind.  His  voice  said,  "  Peace,  be  still."  "  The 
sea  is  His,  for  He  made  it." 

In  the  Tower  of  London  He  showed  me  the  footsteps  of 
the  King  of  kings  as  He  came  marching  down  the  ages, 
setting  up  one,  and  putting  down  another.  While  gliding 
through  the  valleys  of  Southern  Europe,  He  pointed  me  a 
way  to  the  heights  of  Piedmont,  where  "  the  bones  of  His 
slaughtered  saints  lay  bleaching  on  the  Alpine  mountains 
cold."      At  Rome  He  opened  to  me  the  arena  where    His 


186  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

followers  were  cast  to  the  wild  beasts,  and  took  me  down 
into  the  Catacombs,  those  sepulchral  halls  where  the  faithful 
used  to  retire  for  prayer  and  to  celebrate  His  death.  He 
spread  out  before  me  the  landscape  of  vine-clad  Italy  and  the 
colors  of  His  pencil  that  garnished  its  sunsets. 

Jesus  went  with  me  to  Egypt,  where  He  spent  a  part  of 
His  infancy ;  attended  me  to  the  spot  of  His  birth,  to  the  hill 
country  Avhere  He  was  brought  up,  to  the  lake  where  He 
stilled  the  tempest,  to  the  garden  of  His  agony,  the  mount 
of  His  ascension.  .  .  . 

But  this  Jesus  who  went  out  and  came  in  with  me  is  not 
merely  the  personage  who  lived  in  the  time  of  the  Csesars, 
and  stood  before  Pilate,  but  the  ever-present,  living  Christ, 
whose  word  is,  "I  am  He  who  liveth  and  was  dead,  and  be- 
hold I  am  alive  foreverraore."  He  it  was,  who  said,  "  I  am 
with  thee  alway,  I  will  never  leave  thee  nor  forsake  thee." 
For  such  strange,  astonishing  kindness  to  one  so  unworthy,  I 
would  renewedly  consecrate  myself  to  a  more  humble,  trust- 
ing, and  obedient  service. 

THE  RETURN  OF  THE  PASTOR. 

Praise  Him  who  smoothed  our  pastor's  path 

Across  the  boisterous  main ; 
Disarmed  tlie  tempests  of  their  wrath, 

And  brought  him  home  again ; 

Who  led  him  on  to  view  the  land, — 

The  land  by  Jesus  trod  ; 
And  on  the  very  Mount  to  stand, 

From  which  He  went  to  God; 

To  see  the  Salem  of  the  seers, 

The  spot  where  David  sang, 
Where  Jesus  shed  His  bitterest  tears, 

And  gave  His  life  for  man. 

And  now  once  more  among  his  own, 

The  people  of  his  choice, 
We  join  to  pour  before  the  throne 

Our  thanks  with  heart  and  voice. 

Kev.  John  Spaulding,  D.D. 
September,  1871. 


LETTERS.  187 

To  his  uncle,  Nathaniel  Eaton,  on  his  hundredth  birthday:  — 

April  30,  1875. 

My  dear  and  honored  Uncle,  —  And  this  will  reach 
you  on  the  one  hundredth  anniversary  of  your  birth  !  Fortu- 
nate man !  How  few  continue  who  begpn  life  with  you ! 
How  many  have  died  since  you  began  to  live !  A  single 
year  is  a  large  portion  of  our  earthly  pilgrimage.  Thirty 
such  fractions  make  up  the  average  of  human  life.  The 
watch  that  should  tick  through  a  whole  year  without  wind- 
ing must  have  a  fine  and  flexible  mainspring.  Firm  as  steel 
those  wheels  of  life,  tough  the  sinewy  heart,  compressed  the 
vital  force,  that,  without  missing  a  pulse,  beats  off  the  sec- 
onds of  a  century.  Your  physical  framework  was  of  no 
trembling,  no  flimsy  material.  Your  web  of  life  shows  a 
double  stroke  to  the  loom,  with  no  stint  to  the  warp  and 
woof. 

But,  my  dear  uncle,  you  are  not  only  fortunate  in  the  pos- 
session of  a  century,  but  in  the  selection  of  your  century. 
Your  cradle  was  rocked  by  the  earthquake  of  the  Revolution. 
The  moment  was  a  meridian  in  the  nation's,  in  the  world's 
history.  Your  coming  was  fifteen  days  after  the  battle  of 
Lexington,  forty-four  days  before  the  battle  of  Bunker  Hill, 
in  which  Captain  Nathaniel  Eaton,  your  own  father,  led  on 
his  patriot  band.  .  .  . 

In  this  one  hundred  years  what  times  have  gone  over  you  ! 
What  triumphs  you  have  witnessed !  The  increase  of  light, 
the  widening  of  the  area  of  freedom,  the  snapping  of  fetters 
that  have  bound  the  bodies,  the  souls,  of  men,  have  greeted 
you  all  along  your  pilgrimage.  .  .  .  But  the  century-plant  is 
identified  with  the  spot  where  it  grows.  The  history  of  Sut- 
ton blends  with  that  of  your  own  life.  You  are  one  of  the 
early  and  the  few  whose  sturdy  blows  chased  away  the  dense 
forests,  and  opened  the  soil  and  the  silex  to  the  sun.  ...  I 
have  an  excellent  picture  of  j^ou,  taken  when  you  were 
eighty-nine  years  of  age,  hung  in  a  conspicuous  place  in  one 
of  my  rooms.  A  look  at  that  brings  back  more  of  my  youth- 
ful days  than  any  other  memento  of  the  past.  ...  I  well 
remember  when  you  built  your  new  house,  and  how  those 


188  REV.   HORACE  EATON,  D.D. 

green  blinds  struck  my  youthful  eye.      I  remember  when 

your  new  chaise  was  bought,  and  when  you  rode  in  it  for 

the  iirst  time  on  Sunday  to  the  South  Meeting-liousc,  and 

how  I  ran  after  you    as   far  as   the  Peter  Pkice.      Hoav  I 

enjoyed    the    morning  when    yourself.  Uncle  A.,  and    other 

patriots  of  the  neighborhood,  went  by  to  the  town-nieeting 

the  second  Tuesday  in  March  ! 

.  .  .  As  I  turn  from  your  past  to  your  future,  my  dear 

uncle,  I  still  more  rejoice.     Though,  for   the   sake   of   the 

living,  I  might  be  glad  to  have  you  arrive  late  to  heaven, 

I  can  but  give  thanks  that  good  men  may  die,  that  Jesus 

has  robbed  death  of  its  terrors,  and  gone  to  prepare  mansions 

for  them  that  love  Ilim.     Providence  permitting,  I  hope  to 

see  you  the  coming  summer.  .  .  . 

May  S,  187G. 

My  DEAii  BiiOTHER  Jacob, —  .  .  .  With  grateful  luunilia- 
tion  I  can  but  tell  you  what  the  Lord  has  done  for  us  as  a 
church.  Yesterday  we  welcomed,  on  profession  of  their 
faith,  one  hundred  and  two  jjcrsons,  also  eleven  by  letter. 
To  fifty-five  of  these  I  administered  the  ordinance  of  bap- 
tism. To  God  be  all  the  glory !  My  strength  has  held  out 
wonderfully.  My  youth  has  been  renewed.  I  have  been 
anointed  with  fresh  oil.     Pray  that  the  Divine  Spirit  may 

not  be  grieved  away. 

Palmyha,  X.Y.,  July  i,  1877. 

j\Iy  deae,  BnoTHER  J.,  —  The  celebration  of  the  nation's 
birth  comes  to  our  house  draped.  Nine  years  ago  our  dear 
John  left  us  for  the  better  land.  This  moniing  I  found  my 
journal  of  1868.  Tliore,  under  July  4th  of  that  year,  I  had 
written  a  minute  account  of  his  dcatli.  I  took  it  to  our 
breakfast-table  and  read  it  to  the  family.  A  recurrence  to 
that  dark  and  solemn  moment  brings  back  the  crisis  tliat 
almost  unnerved  me.  You  will  remember  how  Edmund 
Burke  wrote  when  he  lost  a  darling  son  who  promised  to 
more  than  fill  his  father's  i)lace :  "  The  storm  has  gone  over 
me.  I  am  like  one  of  those  old  oaks  that  the  recent  tempest 
has  turned  up.  I  would  part  with  all  my  lienors  for  one 
peck  of  bad  wheat."     Such  was  the  moan  of  this  great  man 


LETTERS.  189 

at  the  loss  of  his  only  son.  Such  was  mine.  But  after 
preaching  the  next  Sabbath  twice,  I  took  a  solitary  walk. 
The  thought  came  to  me  as  from  tlie  lips  of  my  dear  boy, 
*' Don't  surrender  to  this  sorrow.  Work  on,  still  do  battle 
bravely  for  Christ,  and  the  time  will  soon  come  when  you 
too  shall  come  up  hither."  The  thouglit  strengthened  me. 
And  then  that  passage,  "  Wait  on  the  Lord  and  be  of  good 
courage,  and  He  shall  strengthen  thine  heart;  yea,  I  say,  wait 
on  the  Lord."  These  thoughts  splintered  up  my  broken 
bones  till  the  wound  was  healed.  And  I  have  gone  on  with 
the  hope  that  there  will  come  a  time  when  I  shall  know  the 
reasons  of  my  affliction,  and  see  the  dear  boy  I  so  sorrowed 
to  lose. 

There  was  no  place  he  so  loved  to  visit  as  the  old  homestead  in  New 
Hampshu'e. 

Eaton  Grange,  Warner,  N.IL,  Aug.  9,  1878. 

My  DEAr.  Daughters,  —  My  ride  from  Palmyra  to  Troy 
was  a  continual  song.  The  different  piiases  of  traveling 
never  fail  to  divert  my  mind.  The  going  to  a  place  of  rec- 
reation is  a  delicious  foretaste  of  that  enjoyment.  A  copious 
rain  had  preceded  me.  Every  tree,  flower,  bird,  seemed 
revived.  Nature  was  in  her  happiest  attitude,  a  mirror  of 
divine  goodness.  Soil  so  rich,  seasons  so  genial,  productions 
so  abundant,  flowers  so  fragrant,  woodlands  waving  in  the 
wind  and  shimmering  in  the  sun,  air  so  fresh  and  tonic, — 
all  these  cannot  be  gifts  of  a  malignant  Being !  The  tint  of 
the  rose,  the  flavor  of  the  peach,  the  song  of  the  lark,  all  tell 
of  a  delicate,  gratuitous,  overflowing  goodness  in  the  Creator. 

Wayne  County  never  fails  to  greet  the  traveler  with  val- 
leys fat  and  well-watered.  This  year  Onondaga  and  Herki- 
mer are  not  behi)id  in  richness. 

As  I  passed  along  the  Mohawk,  the  rain  on  meadows  newly 
mown,  on  the  stubble  of  the  late  crop,  inviting  a  later  and 
another  harvest,  suggested  to  me  tliat,  advanced  as  I  was  in 
age,  tl trough  the  rain  of  the  Spirit,  I  miglit  render  yet  some 
service  to  the  needy.  .  .  . 

The  brothers  and  sisters,  with  their  families,  are  coming 


190  HEV.  HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

in.     I  try  the  brook  to-day  for  trout  or  dace.     I  leave  you 
both  in  the  good  hands  in  which  I  leave  myself. 

Your  Father. 

To  an  invalid  sister :  — 

Palmyra,  April  21,  1877. 

My  dear  Sister  L.,  — .  .  .  I  snatch  a  moment,  although 
it  is  Saturday,  to  let  you  know  that  I  have  you  constantly 
in  mind.  I  pray  that  your  pain  may  be  alleviated  so  far 
as  is  consistent  with  God's  glory  and  your  eternal  good. 
Nothing  can  bear  us  up  against  disappointment,  bereave- 
ment, and  strong  pain,  like  the  personal,  loving  presence  of 
Jesus  Christ.  And  has  lie  not  said,  '■'-I  will  never  leave  thee 
nor  lorsake  thee  "?  Head  and  ponder  the  first  four  verses  of 
the  forty-third  chapter  of  Isaiah.  That  bore  me  up  like  a 
lifeboat  all  the  way  across  the  ocean.  My  health  is  good. 
I  work  hard,  and  enjoy  my  work.  How  safe,  how  happy,  we 
are,  when  we  can  put  our  hand  in  God's  hand  to  be  led  and 
protected  and  saved  !  My  sun  must  at  lengtli  go  down,  but 
I  wish  to  do  all  I  can  and  make  the  most  of  the  thrums  of 
life.     Dear  sister,  pray  for  me. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

PASTORAL  LABORS.  —  HOW  HE  MADE  SERMONS.  —  HIS 
STUDY.  —  USE  OF  ANALOGIES. — MUSINGS  ON  THE  RAIL- 
ROAD. —  IMPROVEMENT  OF  CURRENT  EVENTS  AND  PROVI- 
DENCES. —  WHEAT-HARVEST.  —  INTRODUCTION  OF  GAS. 
—  THE  EIGHTH  COMMANDMENT.  —  THE  ORGAN.  —  NEW 
year's  SERMON,  THE  CLOCK. — FRAME-WORK  OF  EX- 
TEMPORE SERMON.  —  FACETIOUSNESS.  —  PREACHING  TO 
CHILDREN.  —  PRAYERFULNESS. "  TRIUMPH   IN   CHRIST." 

Dr.  Eaton  was  indefatigable  as  a  pastor.  The  following  extracts 
from  his  journals  and  letters  give  samples  of  the  work  of  many  a  day  in 
many  a  year :  — 

Tuesday,  Feb.  10,  1860.  My  mind  did  not  work  well  this 
morning.  The  truth  is,  I  must  have  some  rest.  When  I  do 
not  rest  on  Monday,  I  have  to  rest  on  Tuesday. 

June  20, 1860.  Called  on  Mrs.  H.  She  will  not  live  long. 
Mrs.  P.  about  the  same.  Find  that  Mr.  O.  has  moved  to 
the  house  where  Mr.  B.  used  to  live.  Must  call  on  them 
this  week.     Mr.  F.  must  have  his  marriage-certificate.     Gave 

a  book  to  .     Attended  lecture  in  the  evening.     Acts 

6  :  6-12.     Teachers'  meeting  after  lecture. 

March  25,  1863.  Was  called  up  this  morning  at  four 
o'clock  to  see  W.  D.  He  thought  himself  dying,  but  he 
revived.     Dear  boy,  he  asked  me  if  he  could  do  any  thing 

more  than  cast  himself  on    Christ.     Went   to   see and 

and .     Spoke  in  evening  on  Ps.  40 :  2,  3.     Brother 

H.  present.     Seventeen  at  the  inquiry  meeting. 

April  6,   1863.     Called    on    Mrs.   S.     She   is   trusting   in 

Christ.     Called  on .     Found  him  in  the  barn.     Had  a 

kind  and  faithful  talk  with  him.  Had  a  good  time  in  prayer 
with  his  parents.  .  .  . 

Sunday,  12th.  Was  very  tired  this  morning.  A  full  house. 
My  subject,  "  If  I  had  not  come  and  spoken  to  them,"  etc. 


192  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

.  .  .  Some  thirty  at  inquiry  meeting  in  evening.  (Then  fol- 
low their  names.) 

April  13.  C.  F.  thinks  she  has  found  tlic  Savionr,  or, 
rather,  the  Saviour  has  found  her.  j\lr.  W.'s  concert  in 
chnrcli  this  evening.  Brothers  F.  and  T.  and  S.  were  in  my 
study,  and  we  talked  and  prayed  about  Zion. 

Dear  L.,  —  This  morning  I  left  home  at  8.30;  rode  to 

where    dear    Mrs. died ;    after   a   short    service    there, 

followed    tlie   hearse    to   ,    preached   a   sermon   in    the 

clnnch,  attended  the  burial ;  came  back  to  Palmyra  at  7.30 ; 
hastened  to  perform  a  marriage-service  at  8.30;  have  just 
made  a  record  of  the  whole  thing,  and  now  report  progress 
to  my  youngest  daughter.  Last  week  I  made  and  preached 
four  sermons.  The  last  funeral  is  the  thirty-seventh  to 
which  I  have  been  called  this  year.  Each  funeral  will 
average  one  day's  labor.  I  cannot  find  the  time  I  would 
like  for  visiting  my  parish.  I  am  thankful  that  I  have 
strength  to  go  througli  so  much.  How  long  I  shall  stand 
it,  I  cannot  tell;  but  the  work  of  ministering  to  this  dear 
people,  the  work  of  studying  the  Bible,  and  preacliing  tlie 
gospel,  is  glorious;  it  brings  its  own  reward.  I  think  of 
you  every  day,  and  pray  for  you;  liope  you  will  be  guided  in 
all  things  by  the  good  hand  of  God  ;  trust  Ilim  at  all  times. 
He  has  been  my  refuge  in  all  troubles,  great  and  small,  and 
He  will  be  yours.     In  much  haste  and  weakness. 

Your  affectionate  father, 

HoiiACE  Eaton. 

Palmyra,  Jan.  11,  1877. 
My  dear  M., —  .  .  .  The  highways  shut  up  as  in  the 
days   of   Sharagar  (Judg.  5:6).'  Mr. sick.      I  under- 
took to  drive  the  pony  there.     Road  partially  broken.     Train 
across  the  track.     Pony  wet,  the  buffalo  and  the  wolf-robe 

wet,  I  was  wet,  —  all  wet.     Found  Mr. better.      Hard 

to  turn  the  sleigh  for  home.  No  time  for  supper.  Bell 
ringing  for  mesting.  But  had  a  blessed  meeting.  Subject, 
prayer  for  our  country.  The  remarks  by  the  brethren  were 
excellent. 


THE  PASTOR.  193 

I  think  of  you  and  pray  for  you.  I  hope  you  will  grow 
in  the  knowledge  of  God's  word,  and  have  all  that  comfort, 
strength,  and  joy,  which  comes  from  a  sense  of  the  presence 
of  the  Saviour.  .  .  . 

Your  loving  father, 

H.  Eaton^. 

Beside  faithfulness  in  his  own  parish,  he  labored  much  for  those  who 
belonged  to  nobody's  parish.  He  was  scrupulously  careful  lest  he  invade 
the  domain  of  a  brother-clergyman,  and  when  he  met  with  those  who 
expressed  a  preference  for  a  denomination  other  than  his  own,  he 
promptly  and  honorably  gave  over  their  names  to  the  pastor  or  Sabbath- 
school  superintendent  of  the  church  of  their  choice.  At  the  same  time, 
he  called  every  one  his  parishioner,  whether  rich  or  poor,  who  attended 
church  nowhere,  and  endeavored  to  dispel  their  indifference,  dissipate 
their  opposition,  and  arouse  interest  in  divine  things.  Like  his  Master, 
he  sought  "  to  seek  and  to  save  that  which  was  lost." 

There  was  no  patronizing  manner  in  his  dealing  with  the  wretched 
and  the  outcast.  They  knew  he  loved  them.  They  trusted  him.  They 
were  won  to  the  right  and  to  Christ  by  his  influence.  How  would  a 
handshake  like  his  between  every  man  and  his  fellow,  help  to  cure  the 
acrid  spirit  of  socialism! 

"  The  hand  is  index  sure  and  true 
Unto  the  heart. 


It  was  not  any  word  he  said, 
But  just  that  care  and  sorrow  fled 

As  if  at  his  command. 
'Twas  not  the  smile  upon  his  lip, 
But  just  the  honest,  hearty  grip 

With  which  he  shook  ray  hand." 


Active  and  laborious  as  he  was  as  a  pastor,  one  feature  of  his  commis- 
sion he  kept  ever  in  the  front :  "  Go,  preach  my  gospel."  He  brought  to 
the  pulpit  "  things  new  and  old "  from  the  Scriptures.  To  it  he  also 
made  "  the  riches  of  the  Gentiles  "  tributary.  His  travels,  all  his  studies 
in  nature,  art,  literature,  were  subordinated  to  it.  Every  gem  he  gazed 
upon  must  garnish  the  uplifted  ci'oss  in  the  sight  of  his  flock. 

The  seed-thoughts  of  sermons  often  lay  germinating  in  his  mind 
weeks  and  months  before  full  development.  The  first  thing  in  making 
his  sermon  was  to  laote  down  every  thing  nearly  or  remotely  connected 
with  his  subject  in  the  Bible.  In  doing  this  he  tolerated  no  English  edi- 
tion of  the  Holy  Book,  except  the  genume,  tmabridged  Bagster.    He  would 


194  REV.    HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

then  carefully  examine  the  original  Greek  and  Hebrew ;  afterward,  it  may- 
be, books  in  his  library  bearing  on  the  general  theme.  This  done,  it  was 
his  favorite  method  to  walk  the  floor  of  his  study,  fold  his  hands  behind 
him,  and  make  his  plan.  Order  would  break  through  the  chaos.  Bone 
would  come  to  his  bone,  and  ere  long  sinews,  flesh,  and  breath  would 
appear.  How  happy  was  his  look,  if,  when  through  with  his  forenoon's 
work,  at  the  noonday  meal  he  could  say,  "  I  can  see  through  it ;  it  has 
cracked  open  in  the  seam  "  I  Did  interruptions  seem  to  forbid  complet- 
ing his  sermon  according  to  his  ideal,  he  would  sigh,  "I  fear  the  poor 
sheep  will  have  to  look  up  to  an  empty  rack  next  Sabbath." 

From  a  letter  to  a  young  clergjmian  :  — 

.  .  .  The  fact  is,  if  we  want  to  say  any  thing,  we  must 
have  something  to  say,  and  we  must  feel  that  we  have  some- 
thing to  say,  and  something  which  it  is  of  great  importance 
men  should  hear.  Looking  up  often  for  divine  light  while 
making  sermons,  greatly  facilitates  clearing  up  and  enforcing 
points.  For,  as  with  the  lightning-rod,  so  with  a  sermon, 
clear  and  sharp  points  bring  down  the  quickening  fire.  .  .  . 
I  love  to  take  the  Bible  and  read  it  in  the  English,  without 
note  or  comment,  comparing  spiritual  things  with  spiritual. 
It  feeds  my  soul.  And  when  my  own  soul  is  fed,  then  I  can 
feed  others.  I  have  always  noticed  that  when  I  write  from 
a  deep,  warm  experience,  then  there  is  silence  and  solemnity 
in  the  audience. 

Perhaps  you  will  find  some  assistance  from  the  book  I 
send  you.     Do  you  want  others?     Tell  me. 

His  study  was  his  sanctuary,  his  very  Holy  of  holies.  "When  at  work 
there,  his  books  would  be  found  open  at  the  places  where  he  wished  to 
consult  them.  They  might  lie  upon  his  desk,  or  prone  upon  the  floor  by 
his  side  — all  their  apparent  discord  was  harmony  understood  by  him- 
self. During  his  first  years  in  Palmyra  his  study  was  a  room  enclosed 
over  the  front  porch  of  the  church.  Many  a  sermon  has  he  wrought 
out  while  walking  to  and  fro  in  "the  long-<lrawn  aisle"  of  the  eastern 
gallery.  How  much  of  thinking  and  praying,  alone  and  with  others,  in 
that  .second  study  he  occupied,  which  he  used  to  call  his  '*  den  " ! 

In  unfolding  the  great  string-pieces  of  the  gospel  system,  his  argu- 
ments were  always  clear,  and  the  inferences  convincing  and  practical. 
No  matter  what  his  subject,  or  how  remote  the  preliminary  remarks,  he 
never  omitted  a  fervent  and  impressive  application.     It  was  bis  aim  to 


THE  PASTOR.  195 

embody  somewhere  in  every  service  a  distinct  answer  to  the  question, 
"What  must  I  do  to  be  saved?"  It  was  to  him  a  ground  of  strong  con- 
solation that  Christ  was  our  suhstitute  as  well  as  ovir  exami^le,  that 
"  He  bare  our  sins  in  His  own  body  on  tlie  tree."  He  loved  to  preach 
upon  God,  "A  spirit,  infinite,  eternal,  and  unchangeable  in  His  being, 
wisdom,  power,  holiness,  justice,  goodness,  and  truth."  He  said,  "It 
is  the  mark  of  a  true  disciple  to  esteem  God  Himself  better  than  all  His 
mercies."  He  presented  the  personality,  divinity,  and  offices  of  the  Holy 
Spirit,  — "the  love  of  the  Spirit"  (Rom.  15:30),  "The  help  of  the 
Spirit "  (Rom.  8  :  26),  "  the  laws  of  the  Spirit  "  (John  3  :  8),  "  the  Holy 
Spirit  the  Comforter"  (John  10:7-10).  He  often  said,  that  Avhen  this 
divine  agent  was  his  theme,  His  influences  seemed  specially  manifest 
upon  the  congregation. 

In  the  iron-works  at  Wyoming,  Penn.,  I  saw  the  ore  and  coal 
pitched  into  the  great  furnace,  a  hard  and  frigid  mass.  But 
a  current  of  air  was  made  to  go  up  through  it.  The  fire 
kindled  and  extended  till  all  was  aglow.  The  ore  melted, 
the  dross  ran  off.  So  the  Holy  Spirit,  the  breath  of  the 
Almighty,  drawn  up  through  the  soul  by  prayer,  can  kindle 
the  truth,  melt  the  dross,  soften  and  subdue  the  heart. 


The  Holy  Spirit  is  a  divine  person.  He  knows  all  things, 
is  everywhere  present,  creates,  enlightens,  rules.  He  deals 
with  the  souls  of  men  as  free,  accountable  agents.  He  does 
not  govern  by  blind  force.  He  brings  forward  motives, 
draws,  convinces,  allures.  He  does  not  override  the  freedom 
and  accountability  of  man.  He  can  persuade  when  a  created 
spirit  cannot.  He  has  a  key  to  fit  the  wards  of  the  human 
soul,  to  turn  the  bolt  when  all  other  agencies  fail.  Do  you 
ask  how  He  influences  mind?  I  cannot  tell.  Can  you  tell 
how  the  eye  of  the  mother  looking  into  the  eye  of  the  child 
can  vibrate  thought  and  affection?  .  .  . 

Illustrations  and  analogies  elucidating  and  enforcing  Bible  truth 
seemed  to  crystallize  around  him  like  polarized  atoms.  "  They  cling  to 
me  like  burrs,"  said  he.  Symbols  flew  to  his  mind  as  doves  to  their  win- 
dows. On  returning  from  a  journey  to  Vermont,  he  gave  the  young 
people,  on  Sabbath  evening,  his  Musings  on  the  Railroad :  — 


196  REV.   HORACE   EATON,   D.D. 

Ps.  119  :  105.  "  Thy  word  is  a  lamp  unto  my  feet,  and  a 
light  unto  my  path." 

2  Sam.  22  :  29.  "  For  thou  art  my  lamp,  O  Lord,  and  the 
Lord  will  ligliten  my  darkness."' 

Railroad  traveling  is  often  very  stimulating  and  delightful. 
As  you  lly  along  the  meadows,  between  the  mountains, 
through  the  deep  and  ancient  woods,  you  are  ever  surprised 
with  new  aspects  of  scenery  and  forms  of  life.  How  passen- 
gers can  spend  their  time  in  reading  yellow-covered  novels, 
while  the  ever-varying  i")age  of  Nature  is  so  refreshing  to 
the  imagination  and  the  heart,  is  inexplicable.  The  bird  of 
passage  flj'ing  over  can  look  down  upon  lake  and  landscape. 
The  railroad  traveler  can  continue  longer  on  the  wing  as 
he  glides  through  the  changing  prospect.  The  diversions 
attending  a  ride,  now  on  the  bank  of  the  rushing  river,  then 
under  the  projecting  crag,  or  from  peak  to  peak,  leaping 
along  the  summits  of  the  Green-jNIountain  range,  is  fitted  to 
arouse  curiosity,  wonder,  and  fear,  and  carry  the  mind  up 
to  the  highest  degree  of  interest  and  excitement.  What 
switches,  what  swoops,  what  looking  up  and  down  !  It  is 
not  strange  that  in  these  moments  the  thoughts  sliould  run 
out  into  analogical  and  moral  reflections.  I  took  pains  to 
secure  a  seat  in  the  rear  of  the  last  car.  Thus  I  could  review 
the  track  I  had  passed  over  more  easily  than  I  could  look 
ahead.  So  on  the  great  railroad  of  life  we  cannot  see  an 
inch  before  us,  but  "it  is  greatly  wise  to  converse  with  our 
past  hours." 

The  railroad-track  as  thus  vicAved  suggests  the  necessity 
of  two  rails.  The  cars  cannot  run  like  a  velocipede,  on  one 
wheel.  There  must  be  two  wheels  based  upon  tAvo  tracks. 
Now,  may  not  these  two  parallel  rails  stand  as  emblems  of 
the  two  great  principles  of  the  divine  law,  love  to  God  and 
love  to  man?  How  dangerous  to  divide  these  two  precepts! 
That  is  a  one-sided  orthodoxy  which,  in  its  zeal  for  the  honor 
of  God,  forgets  the  good  of  men.  That  is  a  one-sided  philan- 
thropy which  ignores  the  justice  and  holiness  of  God.  The 
Christian  who  would  bring  his  fellow-men  to  accejit  and 
serve  the  God  he  worships  will  do  best  to  adorn  his  religion 


THE  PASTOR.  197 

with  a  tender  sympathy  for  humanity;  and  the  phihmthro- 
pist  will  do  most  to  relieve  human  woes,  who  seeks  in  all 
to  o-lorify  God.  These  two  principles  start  from  the  same 
source,  and  run  parallel  to  the  same  termination.  "What 
God  hath  joined  together,  let  not  man  put  asunder." 

Sitting  where  I  did,  my  eyes  naturally  fell  upon  the  gorges 
blasted  through  the  solid  ledge  and  the  deep  chasms  filled 
up  from  beneath.  What  cost,  labor,  perseverance,  to  make 
a  railroad  through  such  mountains  of  rock!  But  who  shall 
tell  of  the  obstacles  removed  in  opening  a  way  of  mercy 
through  Mount  Sinai !  What  peaks  of  arrogance  and  pride 
are  to  be  humbled !  what  depths  of  melancholy  and  despair  are 
to  be  raised !  what  difficulties  in  justice  to  be  met  and  satis- 
fied!  But  Jesus  "fainted  not,  neither  was  weary,"  till  he 
exclaimed,  "It  is  finished."  "I  will  make  a  way  in  the 
wilderness;  I  will  make  all  my  mountains  a  way,  and  my 
highways  shall  be  exalted." 

I  found  myself  on  a  new  road,  passing  through  sections  of 
the  State  that  never  before  resounded  to  the  locomotive. 
But  though  the  road  was  so  built  as  to  carry  people  quite 
through  from  the  West  to  the  East,  and  that  was  its  great 
end  and  aim,  yet  there  were  rich,  incidental  blessings  scat- 
tered along  the  way.  Here  a  little  village  had  sprung  up, 
with  its  sehoolhouse  and  church-spire.  Farmhouses  were 
improving.  Marble,  lumber,  slating,  were  piled  near  the 
track.  Enterprise  was  stimulated,  resources  developed,  ave- 
nues opened  to  pleasure  and  health.  The  gospel  is  indeed 
a  highway  of  holiness.  It  takes  men  from  the  City  of 
Destruction  to  the  Celestial  City,  on  condition  that  they  will 
trust  the  checks  given.  Heaven  is  the  goal  of  the  gospel 
railroad.  But  hoAv  great  are  the  wayside  blessings,  —  edu- 
cation, intellectual  cultivation,  good  order,  individual  and 
social  purity !  Every-thing  green  and  lovely  in  our  path  on 
earth  is  promoted  by  Sabbaths,  sanctuaries,  the  worship  and 
songs  of  Zion.     "  Godhness  is  profitable  to  all  things." 

On  one  dark  night  there  wiis  a  scene  of  some  excitement 
on  the  cars  as  the  conductor  came  round  with  his  lantern  to 
inspect   the  tickets.     Some  were  calm  and  unmoved;  their 


198  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

tickets  were  in  sight  on  their  hats.  Some  were  asleep ;  all 
were  stirred  up,  and  not  a  few  thrown  into  trepidation ;  their 
faces  were  anxious ;  there  was  a  fumbling  in  the  pockets. 
I  greatly  pitied  one  poor  fellow,  who  evidently  thought  to 
smuggle  himself  through  without  a  ticket.  To  the  conduc- 
tor he  said,  "  Let  me  go,  I  am  no  trouble."  —  "  But,"  he  was 
answered,  "  did  you  not  know  the  law  of  the  road  ?  "  —  "  Let 
me  go,  I  say,  1  am  no  trouble."  The  bell  rang,  the  cars 
stopped,  and  the  man  without  a  ticket  was  put  out  into  a 
swamp  in  the  dark.  Another,  whose  words  and  conduct 
seemed  to  evince  his  honesty,  as  he  awaked  from  sleep  was 
confused.  He  searched  in  vain  for  his  ticket.  The  con- 
ductor could  not  wait ;  said  lie  would  come  again.  At  the 
second  coming,  no  ticket.  When  about  to  put  the  man  off, 
to  the  joy  of  all,  the  delinquent  recovered  the  missing  pass. 
As  these  things  went  on,  I  was  deeply  impressed  with  the 
thought  that  all  are  on  board  the  railway  of  life.  At  the 
right  time  the  heavenly  messenger  with  an  unerring  light 
will  examine  our  tickets.  Some  will  have  the  testimony 
written  on  their  foreheads,  "Known  and  read  of  all  men." 
Some  will  be  awaked  from  sleep  in  much  trepidation  of  soul. 
Others  will  be  "found  wanting."  They  presumed  on  the 
kindness  of  the  Lord  of  the  way.  They  saw  no  reason  why 
they  should  be  at  the  inconvenience  of  ajiy  preparation. 
They  will  be  speechless  and  without  excuse,  and  all  the 
more,  because  the  office  of  the  Celestial  Road  gave  to  every 
applicant  a  free  pass  on  condition  that  he  should  not  use  it 
for  low  or  selfish  ends,  to  stop  off  along  the  way  at  Hill 
Lucre  or  Vanity  Fair,  but  that  he  be  a  through  passenger, 
having  his  heart  set  upon  the  New  Jerusalem,  because  there 
are  his  treasures,  his  home,  his  best  friends.  What  peace 
to  him  who  has  his  ticket,  who  knows  he  has  it,  and  who  has 
it  in  siglit,  so  that  others  may  see  it ! 

With  through  tickets  go  checks  that  take  away  all  anxiety 
in  regard  to  burdens  and  baggage.  The  Master  of  the  road 
])rovides  for  them.  His  word  is,  "  Casting  all  your  care  upon 
Ilim,  for  He  careth  for  you." 

It  excited  surprise  and  inquiry,  when,  at  a  certain  place 


THE  PASTOR.  199 

on  the  road,  the  great  flaming  lamp  was  lighted  in  front, 
sending  from  its  polished  mirror  the  rays  far  ahead  upon  the 
track.  At  the  same  time  the  lamps  were  lighted  within 
the  cars,  and  all  in  the  clear  shining  of  mid-day.  It  was  a 
satisfactory  answer  that  a  dismal  tunnel  was  to  be  passed 
through.  Who  has  not  shuddered  at  the  darkness  and  con- 
densed thunder  as  he  has  rushed  through  a  railroad-tunnel? 
The  railroad  of  life  has  its  tunnels.  It  is  well  to  have  the 
lights  trimmed  and  burning  before  we  i^lunge  into  them. 
This  I  say  to  the  dear  young  people,  —  prepare  for  long, 
dark  passages  that  may  meet  you  in  future  life. 

There  will  be  severe  trials  of  principle.  .  .  .  While  absent, 
I  met  a  recent  graduate  of  an  Eastern  college.  He  told  me 
he  had  been  pressed  with  sceptical  difficulties  which  brought 
over  him  "a  horror  of  great  darkness,"  and  that,  had  it  not 
been  for  the  words  of  Jesus  which  lie  had  before  proved  and 
settled  in  his  own  mind,  he  had  gone  a  wreck. 

There  will  be  seasons  when  temptations  converge  and 
intensify.  So  Joseph  and  Daniel  found  it.  Jesus  said, 
"  Now  is  your  hour  and  the  power  of  darkness."  I  have 
heard  men  say  who  were  struggling  with  the  slavery  of 
tobacco,  opium,  or  alcohol,  that  there  were  moments  when 
their  old  appetites  returned  upon  them  like  a  whirlwind. 
At  such  times  Satan  makes  his  onsets. 

Could  we  look  beyond  the  vale  of  sense  into  the  spirit- 
world,  we  might  see  the  great  enemy  of  God  and  souls  cir- 
cling the  path,  and  watching  the  habits,  of  that  young  man. 
He  is  away  from  home,  seeking  an  education,  jirofession,  or 
wealth.  "Here  is  my  victim,"  says  the  tempter.  "The 
eyes  of  his  parents  are  not  on  him.  I  will  allure  him  to  the 
first  glass,  to  the  theatre,  to  the  gambling-saloon ;  I  will 
iijsnare  and  destroy  him."  As  he  lights  near  on  his  fiendish 
errand,  he  hears  the  young  man  repeating  the  sentiments 
taught  him  at  his  pious  home  or  in  the  Sabbath-school.  "  If 
sinners  entice  thee,  consent  thou  not."  "Enter  not  into  the 
path  of  the  wicked,  and  go  not  in  the  way  of  evil  men. 
Avoid  it,  pass  not  by  it,  turn  from  it  and  pass  away."  These 
texts  are  like  arrows  to  the  demon.     He  spreads  his  sooty 


200  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

wings,  and  is  gone.     "Kesist  the  devil,  and  lie  will  flee  from 
you." 

But  the  monster  is  insatiate.  He  will  yet  liave  a  victim. 
A  young  woman  meets  his  basilisk  eye.  I  will  poison  her 
imagination  with  pernicious  reading.  Step  by  step  I  will 
lead  her  on  to  ruin.  But  as  nearer  he  bends  his  flight,  he 
hears  the  maiden  singing,  — 

"  Other  refuge  have  I  none, 

Hangs  my  helpless  soul  on  Thee ; 
Leave,  ah  leave  me  not  alone. 
Still  sui)i)ort  and  comfort  me." 

Rebuffed,  but  not  conquered,  by  the  heavenly  missile,  he 
gathers  resolution  from  his  disappointment,  and  fixes  his  gaze 
upon  an  afflicted  invalid.  He  says,  "  I  will  breathe  into  his 
heart  the  spirit  of  murmuring  and  rebellion.  I  will  tempt 
him,  as  I  tempted  Job,  to  'curse  God  and  die.'"  But  from 
the  chamber  of  agon}*,  under  the  roof  of  the  dreary  and 
dilapidated  dwelling,  arises  the  voice  of  submission  and  of 
praise :  "  Though  He  slay  me,  yet  will  I  trust  in  Him." 
"For  our  light  affliction,  which  is  but  for  a  moment,  worketh 
for  us  a  far  more  exceeding  and  eternal  weight  of  glory."  .  .  . 
These  all  had  their  lamps  lighted  before  they  came  to  the 
fearful  tunnels  of  temptation.  How  many  have  fallen,  never 
to  rise,  because  they  neglected  so  wise  a  precaution  ! 

But  the  railroad  of  life  terminates  with  the  tunnel  of  death. 
How  terrible,  to  enter  these  gloomy  precincts  without  a 
lantern,  to  feel  the  jar  and  reverberations  of  a  whole  life- 
time concentrated  into  one  dark  hour,  "  without  hope,  and 
without  God  in  the  world  "  !  But  we  may  then  have  light. 
A  friend  of  mine  was  telling  me  of  passing  through  the  nine- 
mile  tunnel  of  IMount  Cenis.  He  was  on  his  way  from  the 
snows  and  icebergs  of  the  Swiss  Alps  to  the  sweet  fields  and 
mild  skies  of  Italy.  Great  was  tlie  change  from  one  side  to 
the  otlier,  cheering  the  first  i-ays  that  beamed  in,  increasingly 
glorious  as  they  emerged  into  the  soft  atmosphere  of  that 
clime  of  the  sun.  To  those  wlio  have  their  lamps  trimmed 
and  burning,  death  is  a  tunnel  lighted  up,  a  passage  from 


THE  PASTOR. 


201 


the  cold  regions  of  sorrow  and  sin,  to  the  banks  of  the  river 
of  life,  to  the  land  of  perpetual  spring.  .  .  . 

Dear  friend,  is  yonr  lamp  lighted? 

There  was  a  marked  fitness  and  relevancy  in  the  selection  of  his 
themes.  He  was  ingenious  and  happy  in  the  improvement  of  cm-rent 
events  and  providences.  Discourses  of  this  kind  he  oftener  delivered  on 
Sabbath  evening.  He  drew  lessons  from  the  laying  of  the  Atlantic  tele- 
graph cable,  from  the  exchange  of  the  old  pulpit  Bible  for  a  new  one, 
from  the  Chicago  fire,  from  a  total  eclipse  of  the  sun,  from  severe  drought 
or  the  "blessed  rain"  that  succeeded  it,  from  the  seasons,  "The  Teach- 
ings of  the  Fifth  Month,"  "The  Voices  of  Autumn,"  "The  Moral  Uses 
of  Winter."  AVhen  one  of  his  parish  had  been  struck  by  lightning,  nar- 
rowly escaping  death,  he  spoke  on  "  The  Teachings  of  the  Storm  Cloud." 

There  are  false  protections  that  endanger  rather  than 
secure  the  building.  In  our  spiritual  perils  the  cross  of 
Jesus  Christ  is  the  true  lightning-rod. 

As  his  congregation  removed  to  the  hall  of  the  Union  School  for 
worship  while  their  edifice  was  undergoing  repairs,  he  preached  a 
sermon  on  "  '];he  Schoolroom  of  Tyrannus  at  Ephesus "  (Acts  19  : 9, 
10);  after  a  Sabbath-school  festival,  on  "The  Model  Picnic"  (Matt. 
14  :  l.j-21).  At  the  time  of  an  abundant  harvest  his  text  was  "Is  it  not 
wheat-harvest  to-day  ?  " 

...  In  the  wheat-harvest  we  are  reminded  of  the 
dangers  that  beset  the  grain  between  the  sowing  and  the 
reaping.  Some  stalks  are  choked  with  weeds,  some  are 
black  Avith  mildew ;  but,  worst  of  all,  the  midge,  the  fly  or 
weevil,  stings  the  joint,  or  eats  the  kernel  in  the  milk. 
These  enemies  are  invisible.  They  invade  the  life  of  the 
plant  when  unripe.  We  know  not  when  the  mischief  is 
done ;  but  as  you  walk  among  the  standing  crop,  and  see  the 
light  head  flaunting  in  the  wind,  over  the  bowed  and^  solid 
ear,  you  say,  "  It  is  proud  because  it  is  empty.  The  insect 
has  eaten  out  its  substance."  How  many  a  young  man  and 
young  woman  have  been  smitten  by  some  poisonous  word, 
jn-incTple,  example,  or  book,  by  the  intoxicating  cup,  the 
game  at  cards,  by  the  visit  to  the  theatre  when  in  the  city, 
by  the  unseen  violation  of  conscience,  of  the  Sabbath,  and  of 
the  word  of  God ! 


202  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

When  gas  was  introduced  into  the  village  (1858),  his  subject  was 
"  Light." 

Christ  crucified  was  the  great  factor  of  creation.  The  very 
foundations  of  the  morning  were  so  framed  as  to  subserve 
the  cross.  Calvary  upholds  the  universe.  It  is  said  of 
Christ,  "All  things  were  by  Ilim  and  for  Ilini."'  Every 
metal  and  every  mine,  every  invention  in  science,  in  mechan- 
ics, every  specimen  of  vegetable  and  animal  life,  every  event 
in  all  the  free  and  accountable  agency  of  men  and  angels, 
has  a  place  in  the  evolutions  and  involutions  of  man's 
redemption.  Our  common  mercies,  this  cheerful  light,  savors 
of  Christ's  love  and  of  Christ's  sufferings.  .  .  . 

In  the  material  changes  we  have  contemplated  I  see  a 
cheering  promise  as  to  our  own  purification.  Once  this  dark 
coal  was  in  the  form  of  majestic  trees,  perhaps  adorned  with 
flowers  sweet  as  the  far-scented  magnolia.  Now,  after  a 
burial  of  so  many  years,  this  primitive  vegetation  appears 
as  light,  splendid  light.  Who  shall  say  that  these  bodies, 
though  sown  in  dishonor,  shall  not  be  raised  in' glory?  .  .  . 
"  What  changes  have  been  wrought  on  dead  souls  taken 
from  the  black  and  buried  masses  of  human  depravity ! 
What  lights  have  a  persecuting  Saul,  an  Augustine,  a  John 
Bunyan  proved!"  As  the  Lord  has  set  the  sun  to  give  us 
light,  as  lie  has  embalmed  the  sunlight  of  former  ages  to 
enlighten  our  dwellings,  as  all  this  natural  light  is  but  the 
shadow  and  the  pledge  of  the  spiritual  light  shed  by  the 
great  San  of  righteousness  on  darkened  souls,  how  reason- 
able the  command,  that  we  "shine  as  lights  in  the  world!  " 
.  .  .  Glorious  will  be  those  mansions  "  where  they  need 
no  candle,  or  light  of  the  sun,  for  the  Lord  God  giveth  them 
light." 

After  the  defalcation  of  a  man  in  high  repute,  he  endeavored  to 
impress  the  lessons  of  the  Eighth  Commandment,  "  Thou  shalt  not 
steal." 

This  one  idea  of  the  Eighth  Commandment  is  destined  to 
give  a  security  to  trade,  which  no  insurance  company  can 
afford,    a    facility    and    despatch    beyond    the    telegraph    or 


THE  PASTOR.  203 

express,  cheapness  outrunning  all  competition.  Honest 
purpose  iu  the  debtor,  truth  and  compassion  in  the  creditor, 
will  relieve  all  the  apparatus  of  writs  and  sheriffs.  Difficulty 
in  selling,  and  danger  in  buying,  much  palaver  and  little 
honesty,  will  give  way  to  the  short  and  simple  language  of 
sincerity.  In  every  bargain  two  jjersons  will  be  obliged. 
Covenants  will  not  be  broken  unless  unlawful  or  impossible. 
No  monopolist  by  withholding  corn  will  grind  the  faces  of 
the  poor.  None  will  take  wages  where  they  have  rendered 
no  equivalent.  Men  will  make  fewer  debts,  and  be  more 
earnest  to  i)ay.  The  command  will  be  fulfilled,  "  Owe  no 
man  any  thing,  but  to  love  one  another."  ^  Conviction  of 
right  will  collect  debts  which  no  legal  process  can  enforce. 
.  .  .  Piety  is  not  simply  for  the  cloister,  tlie  church,  the 
Sabbath,  for  holy  days  and  holy  places :  it  is  for  all  duties, 
and  all  seasons.  Unlike  the  use  of  the  surplice  or  the  cowl, 
it  is  for  every-day  wear,  not  to  be  put  off  and  on  like  a 
Sunday  coat.  It  is  the  religion  of  counters  and  ledgers, 
of  workshops,  hotels,  sheep-shearings,  harvest-fields.  It  tries 
men  over  their  bargains,  over  dollars  and  cents,  weights  and 
measures,  as  much  as  over  creeds  and  prayers  and  sermons. 
We  need  a  religion  that  makes  men  honest  in  the  dark,  that 
will  put  as  good  apples  in  the  middle  of  the  barrel  as  at 
either  end,  as  good  wood  in  the  middle  of  the  pile  as  on 
the  top ;  a  religion  that  will  keep  sand  out  of  sugar,  water 
out  of  milk ;  a  religion  that  will  exclude  the  translation  from 
the  recitation-room,  the  copied  problem  as  the  scholar  goes 
to  the  blackboard,  or  the  composition  stolen  from  book  or 
magazine.  We  need  a  religion  that  will  carry  the  Eighth 
Commandment  into  every  day,  and  the  principle,  "  Whatso- 


1  If  there  was  one  thing  about  which  Dr.  Eaton  was  more  punctilious  than 
another,  it  was  in  regard  to  the  payment  of  debts.  He  loved  to  pay  an  honest 
debt.  All  in  his  employ  will  remember  with  what  cheerful  promptness  he 
met  their  claims.  And  in  return  they  gave  most  faithful  service.  For  fear 
lest,  in  the  press  of  other  duties,  an  obligation  might  have  been  forgotten,  he 
would  often  go,  toward  the  close  of  the  year,  and  inquire  of  those  with  whom 
he  traded,  "  Do  I  owe  you  any  thing  1 "  His  rule  was  "  Pay  as  you  go."  He 
kept  a  daily  and  accurate  account  of  all  moneys  received  or  expended. 


204  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

ever  ye  would  tliat  men  should  do  to  yon,  do  ye  even  so  to 
them,"  into  the  whole  life. 

TV'lien  our  beautiful  organ  was  purchased,  he  delivered  a  sermon  on 
"Music  as  connected  -with  the  Worship  of  God." 

David  the  minstrel  was  mightier  than  David  the  monarch  ; 
his  poesy  more  brilliant  than  his  crown.  His  harp  has  a 
string  for  every  human  joy  or  woe;  it  trembles  at  every 
sigh;  its  tones  are  the  echo  of  every  mental  emotion.  He 
will  ever  stand  the  cloister  of  the  militant  and  the  millenial 
church.  How  sweet  the  hymn  in  which  the  Saviour  Himself 
joined,  and  perhaps  led,  as  "they  sang  a  hymn,  and  went  out" 
from  the  Last  Supper!  The  descent  of  the  Spirit  imparted 
increased  power  to  the  praises  of  God.  Paul  writes  to  the 
Ephesians :  "  And  be  filled  with  the  S[)irit,  speaking  to  your- 
selves in  psalms  and  hymns  and  spiritual  songs,  singing  and 
making  melody  in  your  heart  to  the  Lord."  But  to  answer 
their  higli  intent,  the  praises  of  God  should  engage  all  hearts, 
and  as  many  voices  as  possible.  I  have  already  implied  that 
music  is  not  a  gift  to  all.  If  the  voice  is  liarsh  and  the  ear 
leaden,  better  lavish  effort  on  some  other  faculty  more  trac- 
table. If  my  singing  disturbs  another's  devotion,  if  I  cannot 
chant  like  the  nightingale,  I  must  be  content  to  chatter  alone 
like  the  swallow,  or  croak  like  the  raven  in  solitude.  If  I 
cannot  praise  God  with  my  voice,  I  can  worsliip  Him  with 
the  Spirit.  He  will  accept  the  melody  of  the  heart,  the 
rhythm  of  the  affections.  Some  of  us,  it  may  be,  must  be 
content  with  a  broken  and  cracked  voice  till  we  put  on  the 
resurrection  body.  But  of  those  who  cannot  learn  to  sing 
on  earth,  the  exceptions  are  too  few  to  set  aside  tlie  command 
of  the  text :  "  Let  all  the  people  praise  thee."  When,  in  the 
old  Hebrew  worship,  Miriam  and  Deborah  led  the  praises  of 
Israel,  all  the  women  followed  their  lead.  When  David  was 
the  precentor,  the  four  thousand,  yea,  "all  the  people,"  joined 
in  tlie  chorus.  The  influence  of  the  psalms  and  hymns  of 
the  sanctuary  are  not  best  secured  by  the  silent  passage  of 
the  thought  through  the  mind  of  the  listener.  Participation 
in  the  music  heightens  and  deepens  the   impression.      The 


THE   PASTOR.  205 

history  of  divine  worship  is  this ;  —  when  religion  is  revived, 
praise  fills  the  mouths  of  the  people.  The  gospel  made  the 
ancels  singf.      Faith  in  a  cominof  Saviour  made  the  ancient 

(DO  O 

Plebrews  sing.  Faith  in  a  Saviour  already  come  made  the 
apostles  and  early  Christians  sing.  The  gospel  in  the  soul  is 
joy,  is  rapture,  and  it  must  find  vent.  But,  when  the  churcli 
fell  into  the  arms  of  superstition,  the  priests  took  this  bread 
from  the  children,  and  ate  it  themselves,  or  gave  it  to  the 
dogs.  But  in  the  Reformation,  brave  old  Martin  Luther 
brought  back  the  blessing  to  the  people.  Luther  struck 
again  the  same  old  chords,  and  when  thrust  from  the  cathe- 
dral, he  went  on,  still  rolling  volumes  of  praise  from  his 
mighty  lungs,  and  was  joined  by  the  hearts  and  voices  of 
millions.  In  Luther's  soul,  music  became  a  trumpet.  The 
Forty-sixth  Psalm  in  his  lips  was  the  Marseilles  Hymn  of 
the  Reformation.  Who  shall  say  that  Luther  and  Watts  in 
the  upper  sanctuary,  that  your  parents  and  mine,  do  not 
breathe  in  the  same  numbers  in  which  they  used  to  sing  here 
on  earth  ?  Praise  is  a  part  of  our  worship  that  will  go  with 
us  to  heaven. 

He  endeavored  to  improve  the  ti'ansit  from  the  old  to  the  new  year. 
Among  sermons  of  this  class  we  find  one  on  the  "  Analogies  of  the 
Clock,"  delivered  Jan.  3,  1869. 

Ps.  90 :  12.  "  So  teach  us  to  number  our  days  that  we 
may  apply  our  hearts  unto  wisdom." 

A  gentleman  in  Boston  one  day  sauntered  into  a  court- 
room to  spend  a  leisure  hour.  His  attention  was  arrested  by 
a  large  clock  suspended  behind  the  seat  of  the  judge.  He 
was  soon  entirely  absorbed  in  watching  the  regular  oscilla- 
tions of  the  pendulum,  one  foot  in  diameter.  He  saw  nothing 
else.  That  clock  was  a  preacher.  It  spoke  of  time,  proba- 
tion, retribution,  eternity.  In  anguish  of  mind  he  rushed 
out  among  the  crowds  on  Washington  Street,  and  sought  a 
place  where,  alone,  he  lifted  up  the  heart  in  that  prayer 
which,  offered  in  sincerit}^  and  in  the  name  of  the  Crucified, 
is  never  rejected,  "God  be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner." 

Some  of  you  remember  the  old  patriarchal  clock  that  has 


200  REV.   HORACE   EATON,   D.D. 

counted  off  the  days,  months,  find  years  of  generation  after 
generation,  till  it  came  to  be  invested  with  a  sacred  and 
mysterious  personality.  The  aged  and  the  yonng  looked  up 
to  it  as  a  true  friend,  a  safe  adviser.  Like  a  thing  of  life,  it 
has  never  ceased  its  teachings,  warnings,  commands. 

"Through  days  of  sorrow  and  of  mirth, 
Tlirough  days  of  death  and  days  of  birtli. 
Through  every  swift  vicissitude 
Of  changeful  time,  unchanged  it's  stood : 
As  if,  like  God,  it  all  things  saw, 
It  calndy  repeats  those  words  of  awe. 

Forever,  never, 

Never,  forever." 

To-day,  upon  the  transition  moment  between  the  new  and 
the  old  year,  the  household  monitor  may  furnish  some  profi- 
table analogies. 

What  is  apparent,  and  on  the  face  of  the  clock,  is  connected 
with  much  more  tliat  is  internal  and  out  of  sight.  We  only 
see  the  hands  as  they  slowly  traverse  the  dial-plate  :  the 
mainspring,  the  complicated  and  harmonious  wheel-work, 
evade  tlie  eye.  To  many,  the  changes  of  the  great  dial- 
plate  of  Nature  seem  to  come  by  chance.  They  contemplate 
not  the  unseen  instrumentality  and  agency  ever  moving  be- 
hind the  external  index  of  events.  Nature  and  the  affairs  of 
the  world  seem  disjointed  and  out  of  gear.  And  yet,  to  the 
Infinite  Mind,  all  this  apparent  discord  is  harmony.  An  un- 
seen hand  moves  on  His  undisturbed  affairs,  finding  a  place 
for  every  particle  of  matter  and  a  time  for  every  event  of 
His  providence.  He  declares  the  end  from  the  beginning, 
and  from  ancient  times  the  things  that  are  not  yet  done.  To 
His  eye  there  is  nothing  fragmentary  ;  but  all  is  one  complete, 
harmonious  whole. 

But  this  ancestral  clock  has  culminating  moments,  when 
it  strikes.  Though  it  ticks  on,  second  by  second,  and  the 
hands  move  slowly  and  unobserved  over  the  disk,  yet,  when 
it  comes  to  the  sixtieth  minute,  there  is  an  alarm,  a  blow. 
Then  a  new  hour  is  born.  Some  clocks  are  so  constructed 
as  to  make  a  noise  that   ushers  in  the  day.     A  steeple  of 


THE  PASTOR.  207 

church  clock  could  be  so  made  as  to  arouse  the  town  at  the 
commencement  of  the  new  year.  God's  great  clock  of  Nature 
and  Providence  has  sublime  moments,  when  it  strikes.  Events 
and  changes  sound  out  like  a  bell  hung  up  in  the  dome,  the 
belfry  of  the  sky.  These  mark  the  times  that  go  over  the 
nations.  The  world  stands  still  to  listen.  The  almost  silent 
vibrations  of  Time's  pendulum  are  gathered  into  a  single 
stroke.  Events  increase  by  going.  New  lines  are  marked 
all  along  the  dial-plate  of  the  ages.  New  hours  and  advanced 
progress  are  ti-aced  in  human  destiny.  How  unimposing  the 
first  announcement  of  Christianity !  But  the  clock  did  not 
run  down  during  the  dark  ages.  At  the  Reformation  it 
pealed  forth  with  louder  reverberations.  Thus  different  vic- 
tories of  light,  freedom,  and  salvation,  have  at  different  times 
been  announced.  It  will  at  length  strike  twelve  over  a  re- 
deemed and  renovated  world,  when  great  voices  in  heaven 
shall  say,  "  Tlie  kingdoms  of  this  world  are  become  the 
kingdoms  of  our  Lord  and  of  His  Christ." 

But  not  only  is  nature,  with  its  complicated  wheel-work 
and  heaven-hung  bell,  a  sublime  chronometer,  measuring  and 
proclaiming  the  successive  events  of  human  progress,  but 
what  is  man  himself  but  a  time-keeper?  It  is  his  mission 
*'  so  to  number  his  days  that  he  may  apply  his  heart  unto 
wisdom." 

"  Oh !  wondrous  is  that  work  of  art 

Which  knells  the  passing  hour ; 
But  art  ne'er  formed,  nor  mind  conceived, 

The  life-clock's  magic  power. 
Nor  set  in  gold,  nor  decked  with  gems, 

By  wealth  and  pride  possessed, 
But  rich  or  poor,  or  high  or  low, 

Each  bears  it  in  his  breast." 

As  we  may  know  the  time  of  day  from  the  face  of  the 
clock,  so  we  can  tell  the  time  of  life  in  our  frames  and 
spirits.  If  we  count  the  days  of  our  years  threescore  and 
twelve  years,  then  divide  them,  like  the  face  of  a  clock,  into 
twelve  parts,  it  will  allow  six  years  for  each  figure.  The 
boy  who  is  six  years  old  has  lived  to  one  o'clock  in  the  morn- 


208  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

iiig  of  liis  life;  at  twelve  years  he  has  come  to  two  o'clock; 
at  eighteen,  it  will  be  three;  and  at  thirty,  five  o'clock; 
when  sixty,  it  will  be  ten  o'clock,  —  within  two  periods  of  the 
close.  Few  reach  the  twelfth,  the  last  period.  To  many  of 
us  the  hand  of  our  probation  Avill  stop  before  it  shall  come 
to  the  last  figure.  Dear  friend,  what  is  the  time  with  thee? 
As  the  marks  of  age  advance,  as  the  clock  runs  down,  do 
wisdom,  grace,  holiness,  run  u})? 

But  another  analogy  between  tlie  clock  and  the  soul. 
Each  is  to  be  corrected  by  a  standard  from  heaven.  The 
celestial  bodies  measure  time  with  perfect  accuracy.  The 
sun  is  the  authorized  criterion  of  every  chronometer  upon 
the  sea  and  the  land.  To  start  and  keep  right,  we  must 
come  back  to  the  chronology  of  the  skies.  There  are,  in- 
deed, private  clocks,  town-clocks,  church-clocks,  which  set 
themselves  uj)  to  regulate  the  time  of  others.  But  these  are 
liable  to  vary  from  the  true  meridian.  Did  we  all  set  our 
watches  by  the  unerring  sun-dial,  the  word  of  God,  should 
we  not  keep  more  accurate  time  ?  should  we  not  keep  nearer 
together?  Clocks  may  vary  in  their  cases,  their  position,  in 
the  frequency  of  their  vibrations.  The  only  thing  important 
is.  Do  they  accord  with  the  sun?  Substantial  agreement 
does  not  necessitate  circumstantial  uniformity.  What  if 
John  Calvin,  John  Bunyan,  John  Wesley,  John  Newton,  did 
differ  somewhat  in  their  mode  of  worship,  mode  of  thinking, 
and  method  of  stating  their  belief?  Who  now  doubts  that 
they  were  in  real  harmony  with  Christ,  Avith  the  Holy  Ghost, 
and  with  one  another?  Tame  uniformity  is  not  the  law  of 
nature  or  of  grace.  We  differ  in  temperament  and  educa- 
tion. At  the  same  time  we  may  have  "one  Lord,  one  faith, 
one  baptism,  one  God,  and  Father  of  all."  Charles  the  Fifth 
burnt  the  reformers,  and  slied  innocent  blood,  that  men  might 
think  as  the  Pope  did  on  the  creed.  lie  afterward  retired, 
in  disgust  of  life,  to  a  Spanish  cloister.  There,  wearied  with 
his  dull  round  of  mechanical  devotions,  he  found  relief  in 
mechanical  arts,  and  for  a  long  time  set  himself  to  make  two 
clocks  tick  alike.  In  this  he  failed,  and  in  review  of  life 
uttered  the  very  sensible  reflection,  "  What  a  fool  I  was  to 


THE  PASTOR.  -^^ 

try  to  have  all  men  think  alike,  when  I  have  not  been  able 
to  make  two  clocks,  which  have  neither  mind  nor  will,  move 

in  unison!" 

But  if  the  sun-dial  is  the  divine  standard  to  which  a  cor- 
rect   time-piece    must  conform,  to    every  good  chronometer 
there    is    an    internal   arrangement    by  which  it  is  made  to 
accord  with  the  standard.     The  regulator  is  the  most  essen- 
tial part  of  a  o-ood  watch.  .  .  .  Conscience  is  the  regulator 
of  the  soul.     C'^nscience  is  to  receive  its  law  from  the  higher 
law  as  found  in    the  Scriptures.     The    conscience    is  not  a 
mere  adviser  or  associate  among  the  faculties.    It  is  the  legal 
commander;    it    sits    upon  the   king's   bench;    it   beai^    the 
seal  of  the  realm.     The  conscience  owns  no  law  but  Ijod  s. 
It  can  be  corrected  only  by  God's  word.     We  may  be  con- 
scientiously wrong.     When  Paul  persecuted  the  CUiristians, 
he  verily  thought  he  was  doing  God  service  ;  but,  when  his 
conscience  was  set  right  by  the  divine  word,  he    repented. 
You  sometimes  compare  your  watch  with  the  sun,  and  re- 
touch the  regulator.     The  great  item  of  inquiry  on  this  first 
Sabbath  evening  of  the  new  year  should  be,  -  Have  my  lite 
and  heart  obeyed  the  law  of  right  as  represented  by  a  con- 
science enlightened  by  the  Bible?"   ...  _  _ 

My  clock  suggests  and  impresses  another  principle  in  spir- 
itual chronology,  — repairs  must  begin  from  within.  How 
stupid  to  attempt  to  make  a  clock  go  right  by  standing 
before  the  face,  and  forcing  the  hands  round  from  hour  to 
hour'  .  .  .  Paul  at  first  endeavored  to  correct  his  life  by 
outward  efforts;  but  he  saw  his  folly.  The  commandment 
came.  He  felt  the  inward,  awful  depravity  of  his  heart.  He 
repented,  renounced  self,  iled  to  Christ.  The  love  of  God 
was  shed  abroad  in  his  heart  by  the  Holy  Ghost.  His  life 
was  brought  back  by  changing  the  inward  principle  and 
mainspring.  The  reformation  that  begins  from  withui  will 
work  out.  The  reformation  that  begins  from  without  is  irk- 
some, unnatural,  and  will  not  work  in.  Pohshing  the  case, 
turnino-  the  hands,  will  not  set  and  keep  your  watch  right. 

Again  :  from  "  the  old  clock  behind  the  door  ''I  learn  the 
lessoli    of   '^patient    continuance    in  well-doing."     It   never 


210  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

complains.  It  is  not  jealous  of  those  more  adorned  and 
noticed.  Its  motions  do  not  gi'ow  faint  because  of  its  hum- 
ble condition.  It  is  more  concerned  for  its  fidelity  than  its 
notoriety.  Nor  does  the  clock  called  to  stand  in  a  public 
place  become  niorose  because  of  unjust  censure.  Nor  is  it 
so  offended  Avith  the  delinquency  and  sluggishness  of  others, 
that,  in  a  fit  of  disgust,  it  endeavors  to  throw  aside  its 
responsibiHty.  Through  evil  and  good  report  it  cheerfully 
toils  on  till  worn  out.  A  good  clock  does  not  depend  upon 
its  situation.  A  bad  clock  is  not  improved  by  its  position. 
You  may  change  it  from  one  steeple  to  another.  Tlie  more 
prominent,  the  more  disgraced.  Obadiah  the  faithful  ser- 
vant is  spoken  of  with  honor,  while  Ahab  his  master  was 
cast  down  to  infamy. 

The  accurate  time-piece  reads  to  us  lessons  of  punctuality. 
Durino-  every  moment  of  the  past  year  that  faithful  clock  has 
done  its  work  in  its  season  :  hence,  at  the  end  of  the  year, 
no  arrears  are  to  be  settled.  It  has  ticked  and  struck  at  just 
the  right  time.  It  has  told  no  lies,  it  has  omitted  no  duties. 
How  different  had  it  been  ten  minutes  behind!  What  dis- 
appointments at  the  church,  at  the  railroad!  Ten  minutes 
too  late  has  lost  fortunes,  kingdoms,  souls.  Have  any  ut 
you,  my  hearers,  i)ut  off  repentance  the  last  year?  Have 
any  of  you  failed  to  fulfil  the  vows  you  made  to  God  in 
danger  or  on  a  sick-bed?  Shall  procrastination  be  your 
eternal  undoing?  Shall  '^  too  late"  be  written  upon  the 
portals?  shall  the  door  be  shut? 

But  finally,  there  will  be  no  clock  in  eternity.  The 
heavens,  the  great  dial  of  time,  Avill  be  rolled  together  as  a 
scroll.  Days,  months,  and  years  will  end  with  time.  Then 
commences  unmeasured,  immeasurable  duration.  Then  we 
launch  on  the  sailless,  shoreless  ocean.  '^  Time  sliall  be  no 
longer."  No  days,  no  nights,  no  old  years,  no  new  years, 
but  one  ceaseless  gliding  of  the  river  of  life,  or  one  ceaseless 
wading  on  through  blackness  and  darkness  forever! 

We  copy  a  few  pages  from  one  of  his  printed  sermons,  rleliverecl  at  the 
dedication  of  the  Pi-esbyterian  Cimich,  East  ralmyra,  X.Y.,  1870.  Its 
title  "A  Tribute  to  the  Fathers." 


THE  PASTOR.  211 

"  Our  fathers  had  the  tabernacle  of  witness  in  the  wilder- 
ness, as  He  had  appointed"   (Acts  7  :  44). 

"  Honor  thy  father  and  thy  mother,  that  thy  days  may  be 
long  upon  the  land  which  the  Lord  thy  God  giveth  thee " 
(Exod.  20  :  12). 

.  .  .  On  this  auspicious  morning,  and  on  this  spot  so  hal- 
lowed by  the  providential  past,  it  may  stir  our  thoughts  to 
healthful  action,  and  lift  our  hearts  heavenward,  to  glance  at 
the  stern  resolves,  cheerful  self-denials,  and  loving  piety  of 
the  men  into  whose  labors  and  heritage  you  have  entered. 
Gratitude  should  kindle  at  the  cost  of  mercies.  The  sacri- 
fices of  the  past  shoukl  stimulate  to  faithfulness  in  the 
future. 

Peering  backward,  in  imagination,  seventy-seven  years 
ago  the  4th  of  last  April,  to  a  little  cove  in  Southampton, 
L.L,  you  will  see  a  band  of  emigrants  launching  away 
from  their  sea-girt  shore,  tlieir  island  home.  Ocean  waves 
bear  their  humble  but  trusty  bark  around  into  New- York 
harbor.  The  noble  Hudson  welcomes  them  to  Albany. 
Here,  like  the  ships  of  Cleopatra,  lifted  over  the  desert, 
their  boat  becomes  their  burden  to  Schenectady.  There  it 
is  launched  anew,  and  pushed  up  the  Mohawk  to  Rome. 
From  the  Mohawk,  it  goes  overland  to  Wood  Creek ; 
through  that,  it  hoists  sails  on  Oneida  Lake,  feels  its  way 
along  Oswego,  Seneca  and  Clyde  Rivers,  into  Mud  Creek. 
After  a  voyage  so  peculiar,  of  five  hundred  miles  in  twenty- 
eight  days,  this  well-freighted  argosy  comes  to  anchorage  at 
the  mouth  of  Mill  Brook,  Monday,  2d  of  May,  1792. 

Could  we  return  upon  that  fine  spring  morning,  it  would 
delight  us  to  witness  the  play  of  surprise,  zest,  and  curiosity, 
as  it  appears  in  the  colony  just  set  down  in  the  wilderness. 
The  practical,  strong-minded  men  walk  forth  to  observe  the 
strength  and  depth  of  the  soil  and  to  take  in  the  lay  of  the 
land.  Their  inward  thought  is,  here  is  to  be  our  home,  here 
we  are  to  work  out  our  destiny  for  time  and  eternity,  here 
are  to  be  our  graves,  here  the  inheritance  we  leave  to  our 
children.  They  gravely  contemplate  changes  worthy  of 
thoughtful,  educated  Christian  men. 


212  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

The  romantic  spirits  among  them  admire  tlie  height  and 
hue  of  the  out-budding  trees,  and  catcli  the  spirit  of  the  deep 
and  glorious  woods.  Of  the  girls,  one  seeks  the  wild  flowers; 
another  watches  the  birds  that  sing  among  the  branches. 
Of  the  boys,  one  is  preparing  to  catch  the  salmon  or  bass 
that  sport  in  the  untried  stream  ;  another  is  picking  his 
flint  for  a  shot  at  a  partridge  drumming  upon  a  neighboring 
log.  If  among  them  there  are  any  made  up  of  fearful,  trem- 
bling material,  they  trace  with  apprehension  the  remains  of 
an  old  wigwam,  or  the  trail  of  the  Indian  hunter.  They  are 
startled  at  the  track  of  some  monster  in  the  soft  earth,  at  the 
marks  of  bears'  claws  upon  the  trees,  or  at  the  snarling  of 
distant  wolves.  Indeed,  they  thiidc  it  a  dismal  undertaking 
to  make  an  abiding-place  a  town  in  this  frowning  solitude. 

I  see  the  newl3'-arrived  radiating  from  the  landing,  climb- 
ing the  summits,  marking  the  locality  of  their  future  homes. 
As  they  return  to  the  table  spread  for  them  in  the  wilder- 
ness, what  themes  of  interest,  conjecture,  and  surprise,  absorb 
their  conversation  !  The  whole  scene  suggests  to  us  the  verse 
in  which  Virgil  sings  the  arrival  of  the  Trojans  upon  the 
banks  of  the  Tiber:  — 

"  Urhem,  et  Jines,  ct  litora  gentis 
Divei'si  exphrant." 

"  "When  next  the  rosy  morn  disclosed  the  day, 
The  scouts  to  several  parts  divide  their  way, 
To  learn  the  natives'  names,  their  towns  explore, 
The  coasts  and  trendings  of  the  crooked  shore." 

To  the  eye  of  the  pioneers  of  this  community  there  was 
indeed  a  sober  side.  In  the  very  newness  and  fatness  of  the 
soil  they  see  miasm  and  death.  Friends  and  physicians  are 
faraway.  Who  will  be  the  first  victims  of  disease?  Then 
what  labors  look  them  in  the  face!  By  deed,  they  have  re- 
ceived five  thousand  five  hundred  acres  to  subdue.  But 
there  is  not  a  whisper  of  return,  no  putting  the  hand  to  the 
plow  and  looking  back.     Resolution  rises  with  obstacles. 

Soon  the  axe  gives  its  clear,  metallic  ring  through  these 
valleys.  The  giant  Anaks  of  the  forest  creak,  groan,  stagger, 
and  come  thunderimr  to  the  "round.     Fires  roar  and  rush 


THE  PASTOR.  213 

througli  tlie  dry  fallow.    In  the  dim  night,  flames  gleam  from 
eithei^side  across  the  creek.     Smoke  obscures  the  sun,  giving 
the  day  the  mystic  hue  of  Indian-summer.     The  sprouting 
wheat  grows  rank  among  the  stumps.    The  reapers  sing  as  they 
bind  the  tall  and  golden  sheaves.     Rude  but  pleasant  homes 
rise  along  these  hillsides.     The  buzz  of  the  wheel,  the  stroke 
of  the  loom,  tell  of  domestic  industry,  of  the  discreet  and 
beautiful  women  once  so  aptly  described  by  a  king's  mother. 
Hearts  are  knit  for  life  while  fingers  are  busy  in  knitting 
the  woolen  or  flaxen  fibre.     Nuptials  are  celebrated  in  home- 
spun.    Little  children  look  out  the  windows,  and  run  among 
the  trees.     The   town-meeting   is    called.     The   schoolhouse 
goes   up.     The    master  is  abroad.     Mutual   necessities   and 
hardships  among  neighbors  awaken  mutual  interest  and  hos-. 
pitalities.     Each  has  a  helping  hand  to  rear  up  a  house  for 
the  new-comer,  to  sow  and  harvest  the  fields  of  a  sick  brother. 
The  funeral  as  it  files  through  the  woods  to  the  final  resting- 
place  calls  out  a  long  and  sympathetic  procession.     It  does 
not  cost  the    living  the   last   pittance  to   bury  their  dead. 
Those   scant   in    pocket   can    afford   to   die.     Poor-laws  are 
superseded  by  the  laws  of  kindness  and  reciprocity.   .  .  . 

As  the  little  boat  must  bring  its  frame  and  fastenings  with- 
in itself,  so  the  principles  of  your  fathers  were  the  ribs  and 
bolting  of  their  character.  They  could  not  leave  them  be- 
hind. These  principles  were  a  well-set,  a  vertebrated  column. 
At  the  base  was  individual  responsihility  directly  to  Heaven. 
This  doctrine  of  independent  thought  and  direct  account- 
ability to  Heaven  met  the  Puritan's  estimate  of  the  Bible,  as 
the  tenon  the  mortise. 

...  As  he  regarded  the  conscience  unbound  by  the  ap- 
pointments of  men,  so  was  he  tenacious  of  the  itistitutions  of 
God.  To  the  Puritan,  the  family  was  as  ancient  as  Eden,— 
the  arrangement  of  the  Creator,  cherished  by  nature,  pro- 
tected by  direct  command.  The  birds  have  their  own  nests. 
How  curiously  they  weave  them !  hoAV  lovingly  they  pillow 
them  with  down,  and  cover  them  under  the  sheltering  branch  ! 
The  family  is  the  downy  nest  for  the  first  hopes,  joys,  and 
sorrows  of  life.     Parents  and  children  nestle  together  under 


214  JiT^V.  11  on  ACE   EATON,    D.D. 

the  wing  of  covenant  love.  Every  man  thought  his  own  wife 
the  best.  Indiana  divorces  and  Mormon  marriages  had  not 
then  abrogated  the  denunciations  of  Heaven  against  adul- 
tei'ers  and  adulteresses. 

The  Puritan  received  the  Sabbath  on  no  mere  human  or 
church  command,  as  Michaelmas  and  St.  Patrick's  are  en- 
forced. It  was  the  divine  authority  that  hooked  into  his 
conscience  and  fastened  it,  tlie  "  Sabbath  of  the  Lord  his 
God,"  framed  into  the  very  structure  of  man's  wants,  ren- 
dered perpetual  by  the  Decalogue,  and  declared  by  the 
Saviour,  "made  for  man," — for  man  in  all  ages,  in  all  climes, 
the  harbinger  and  foretaste  of  heaven.  It  was  twenty-four 
hours  long,  like  other  days;  and  God  "challenged  a  special 
.property  "  in  the  entire  day.  The  sky  was  more  serene,  the 
birds  sang  more  sweetly,  on  the  Sabbath  day.  Then  the 
harmonies  of  creation  and  redemption  blended  in  the  soul. 

The  clnircJi  was  a  congregation  of  Christ's  disciples,  drawn 
together  b}^  the  elective  affinity  of  faith  and  love,  fellow- 
citizens  of  the  saints  and  of  the  household  of  God,  —  a  body 
republican  in  constitution,  tolerant  in  spirit,  free  in  com- 
munion. 

It  is  not  strange  that  the  Puritan  carried  his  principles  of 
personal  responsibility  into  the  State^  which,  like  the  Church, 
he  regarded  as  the  institution  of  God.  He  submitted  to 
every  ordinance  of  man  for  the  Lord's  sake,  provided  Cresar 
did  not  trench  u|)on  the  prerogative  of  Jehovah,  Tlien,  like 
Mordecai,  he  sat  in  the  king's  gate,  neither  bowing,  nor  doing 
obeisance.  The  Puritan  conscience  has  ever  been  a  stubborn 
thing  to  those  who  tyrannize  by  divine  right.  It  has  proved 
the  advancing  iron  prow,  breaking  its  way  through  ice-bound 
channels  of  const)lidated  oppression,  and  often  clearing  tlie 
way  for  those  who  at  first  denounced  its  firmness  as  ob- 
stinacy. 

Like  the  antagonistic  cordage  that  holds  the  mast  of  the 
ship  firmly  uj)right,  or  as  the  flexor  and  extensor  of  the 
human  arm,  the  piinciples  of  the  Puritan  went  in  pairs. 
Affection  for  children  and  strict  authority  over  them  ;  pri- 
vate frugality  and    public    generosity ;    fervid    emotion  and 


THE  PASTOR.  215 

cool  reflection  ;  freedom  and  responsibility ;  faith  and  works  ; 
a  dependence  on  God,  as  though  the  creature  could  do  noth- 
ing; an  activity  and  adaptation,  as  though  all  success  came 
from  his  own  agency,  —  these  sentiments,  only  apparently 
contradictory,  were  the  balance  and  strength  of  the  Puritan 
life.  He  was  not  the  man  to  go  over  the  falls  from  persist- 
ency in  roAving  with  one  oar.  Conservative,  yet  progressive, 
without  contempt  for  the  past,  he  looked  out  with  hopeful- 
ness and  expectation  upon  the  future.  Said  the  devoted 
John  Robinson  in  his  farewell  to  the  Pilgrim  band,  - 1  charge 
you  before  God  and  His  blessed  angels,  that  ye  follow  me  no 
furtlier  than  ye  have  seen  me  follow  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 
The    Lord   has  much  more  truth    to  break   from  His  holy 

word." 

But  it  is  especially  befitting  this  hour  to  refer  to  the 
fathers'  estimate  of  the  sanctuary.  By  no  means  forgetthig 
that  God  was  a  spirit,  to  be  enthroned  in  their  loftiest 
thoughts  and  holiest  affections,  they  were  yet  careful  to 
strike  a  golden  mean  between  a  formalism  that  quenches 
life  and  a  spirituahsm  too  sublimed  for  this  terrene  state. 
They  saw  that  the  purest  oil  could  not  give  light  in  dark- 
ness" without  a  wick  around  which  the  flame  might  play. 
The  pioneers  felt  the  need  of  external  worship,  of  a  "  taber- 
nacle in  the  wilderness,"  where  public  instruction,  prayer, 
and  song,  should  address  the  ear,  the  eye,  and  stir  and  cheer 
the  socfal  nature.  They  also  remembered  their  old  sanc- 
tuary left  at  their  island  home.  .  .  . 

The  Sabbath  drew  on,  in  which  they  were  to  do  no 
work.  Like  the  Pilgrims  at  Plymouth,  your  fathers  conse- 
crated their  first  Lord's  Day  in  Palmyra  to  the  worship  of 
God  :  and  to  the  present  moment  not  a  Sabbath  has  gone  by 
without  the  solemn  assembly.  That  spot  is  worthy  of  a 
monument,  where,  young  and  old,  they  hallowed  the  first 
Sabbath  by  thanksgiving  for  past  mercies,  and  by  invoking 
blessings  upon  their  future  toil.  As  the  trees  waved  in  the 
wind,  their  hearts  bowed  under  the  divine  Spirit.  As  their 
voices  rose  to  heaven, 

"  The  sounding  aisles  of  the  dim  woods  rang 
To  the  anthems  of  the  free." 


216  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

Here  was  grove-worship  without  the  taint  of  idolatry.  .  .  . 

In  the  summer  of  1793  this  church  was  organized,  tlie  first 
west  of  Oneida  Lake.  Deacon  Stephen  Reeves  and  Deacon 
David  H.  Foster  were  the  Moses  and  Aaron  of  this  infant 
Israel  :  the  former  meek,  retiring,  yet  strong  in  faith, 
giving  glory  to  God ;  the  latter  gifted  in  speech,  and  a 
leader  in  the  service  of  song.  As  the  new-born  Saviour  was 
cherished  in  a  manger,  so  this  youthful  church  was  sheltered 
in  a  barn.  At  an  early  day  a  meeting  was  called  to  devise 
means  to  secure  the  preaching  of  the  gospel.  Captain  Joel 
Foster  was  commissioned  to  hasten  to  Bloomfield,  and  engage 
the  services  of  a  young  clergyman  by  the  name  of  Ezekiel 
Chapman.  A  large  audience  gathered  in  Deacon  Foster's 
barn  to  listen  to  the  inaugural  sermon.  The  text  (Acts 
10  :  29),  "  Therefore  came  I  unto  you  without  gainsaying,  as 
soon  as  I  was  sent  for.  I  ask,  therefore,  for  what  intent  ye 
have  sent  for  me."  Sermon  the  next  Sabbath  in  the  same 
place  (Acts  10  :  33),  "Now,  therefore,  are  we  all  here  present 
before  God,  to  hear  all  things  that  are  commanded  thee  of 
God." 

The  Lord  of  angels,  born  in  a  stable,  graced  the  assemblies 
then  worshiping  in  the  place  where  the  sheep  and  horned 
oxen  fed.  There  the  heavens  opened  over  the  Sabbath  con- 
gregation. There  the  faithful  celebrated  the  Holy  Supper. 
There  the  Hannahs  and  Elkanahs  presented  their  children  in 
covenant  faith.  .  .  .  That  sainted  mother  in  Israel,  Mrs. 
Ruth  Durfee,  daughter  of  Deacon  Stephen  Reeves,  declared 
that  while  her  venerable  father,  with  locks  white  as  the 
snows  of  winter,  was  offering  the  concluding  prayer  in 
Deacon  Mason's  barn,  on  the  Sabbath  day,  she  turned  her 
face,  not  to  the  wall,  but  against  the  hay-mow,  and  while  her 
father  plead  with  Heaven,  she  gave  her  heart  to  Christ.  In 
the  secret  cave,  on  the  desolate  moor  or  the  solitary  shore, 
where  God  meets  His  people,  there  is  the  sanctuary  of  the 
Most  High.  These  migratory  synagogues  in  the  forest,  barn, 
and  schodlhouse,  continued  for  fifteen  years. 

In  180G  the  people  met  to  discuss  the  expediency  of 
erecting  a  house  of  worship.     The  question  of  locality  was 


THE  PASTOR.  217 

sharply  contested.  "  One  hundred  dollars,"  said  Oliver 
Clark,  "  if  on  the  north  side  of  the  creek ;  fifty  dollars  if 
on  the  south  side."  "  One  hundred  dollars,"  said  Humphrey 
Sherman,  "if  on  the  south  side;  nothing  if  on  the  north 
side."  The  south  side  had  it.  The  amount  suhscribed 
was  1960.49.  Dimensions  of  the  house,  fifty-four  by  sixty- 
four.  Eagerness  to  occupy  the  house  outran  the  ability  to 
finish  it.  Kather  than  embarrass  the  enterprise  with  debt, 
the  house  at  its  dedication,  Jan.  11,  1810,  was  left  somewhat 
rude,  compared  with  the  present  temple.  In  the  heat  of 
summer,  the  sheep  of  an  adjoining  pasture  used  to  take 
shelter  under  the  sleepers,  —  mark,  I  mean  the  timbers 
under  the  floor,  for  there  were  no  sleepers  among  the  wor- 
shipers above.  Of  the  score  of  windows,  but  five  were 
glazed,  the  rest  opaque  with  rough  boards ;  no  steeple,  no 
plastering,  no  wainscoting,  no  furnace  save  a  fire  of  coals  in 
the  midst,  like  that  in  the  hall  of  the  high  priest  where  Peter 
warmed  himself.  And  since  the  fathers  could  not  bear 
smoke  in  their  eyes,  more  than  Peter  sin  on  his  conscience, 
this  fire  of  coals  was  put  away,  and  in  the  clear,  cold  light  of 
winter,  devout  men  and  women  sat  out  long  prayers  and 
long  sermons,  keeping  warm  by  the  glow  of  love  to  Christ, 
by  the  mental  effort  of  wrestling  with  the  doctrines  of  free- 
will and  destiny,  and  by  climbing  amid  the  sublimities  of 
the  divine  government  and  j)erfections.  Some  of  you  can 
remember  the  furtive  eye  of  childhood  as  it  glanced  to  the 
naked  rafters,  where  the  swallow  had  found  a  nest  for  her- 
self, or  where  some  neighboring  wheelwright  was  seasoning 
his  timber,  or  farmer  curing  his  flax,  in  the  loft  above.  The 
pul[)it  rested  upon  one  pedestal  and  was  formed  in  the 
shape  of  a  goblet  or  the  socket  of  the  golden  candlestick, 
having  reference,  without  doubt,  to  the  light  that  was  to 
shine  there.  There  were  doors  to  invite  worshipers  from 
the  east,  the  north,  and  tlie  west.  The  gallery  extended 
around  three  sides,  the  choir  occupying  the  entire  front,  — 
Deacon  David  H.  Foster  in  the  centre  with  his  pipe  to  give 
the  pitch.  To  catch  the  more  perpendicular  droppings  of 
the  word,  the  other  deacons  were  seated  under  the  pulpit. 


218  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

Such  was  the  second,  if  not  the  first  house  of  worship  in 
Western  New  York.  It  was  built  by  sacrifice,  and,  though 
"  a  tabernacle  in  the  rvilder7iess^''  it  proved  a  phice  of  power, 
because  accepted  as  a  palace  of  the  Lord  our  God.  .  .  . 

Of  the  pioneers,  —  embracing  the  first  and  succeeding 
arrivals  from  Long  Island,  and  those  who  joined  with  them 
in  laying  the  foundations  of  this  community,  —  I  have  spoken 
with  the  freedom,  perhaps  with  the  partiality,  of  admiration. 
That  every  one  bore  the  character  I  have  drawn  is  not 
probable  ;  that  all  were  sinners,  and  needed  atoning  blood, 
none  felt  more  deeply  than  themselves:  but  they  were 
ahead  of  their  age.  We  are  not  called  to-day  to  go  back- 
ward with  shame-facedness,  holding  up  the  mantle  of  charity 
to  cover  their  faults,  but  gratefully  to  look  upward,  and 
receive  the  mantle  of  their  virtues.  Before  we  blame,  let  us 
be  sure  that  we  e:^ercise  equal  fortitude  and  self-denial ; 
that  in  their  circumstances  we  should  have  done  better  for 
God  and  posterity.  Before  we  talk  of  rough  diamonds,  let 
us  see  to  it  that  we  shine  not  in  false  brilliants.  I  am  not 
in  a  mood  to  put  out  my  eyes  in  searching  for  spots  on 
the  sun,  or  to  use  smoked  glass  in  measuring  eclipses  and 
obscurations.  .  .  . 

.  .  .  Hold  on  then,  advance  in  the  doctrine  of  truth 
and  holiness.  You  have  done  well  in  adding  beauty  to  the 
strength  of  your  sanctuary.  You  know  too  much  to  trust  in 
any  thing  short  of  the  Spirit  of  God.  When  the  children  of 
Israel  looked  to  their  ark  for  help,  they  and  their  ark  were 
carried  away  captive.  You  best  honor  your  ancestors,  not  by 
boasting  of  their  piety,  but  by  imitating  it,  and  by  going  on 
to  higher  degrees  of  faith  and  [)ower.  With  these  new  lines 
of  elegance  and  grace  in  architecture,  foiget  not  the  beauty 
of  holiness  and  the  grace  of  God.  Let  family  religion  burn 
clear  and  bright  upon  every  hearth.  Let  the  Sabbath  ever 
shine  in  hallowed  rays  upon  your  hearts,  homes,  and  land- 
scape. The  Puritan  has  no  preference  for  rudeness.  His 
worship  invites  all  that  is  charming  in  music,  attractive  in 
taste,  redolent  in  fiowers,  provided  they  do  not  divert  from 
the  simplicity  of  his  faith,  or  smother  the  fires  on  his  altars. 


THE  PASTOR.  219 

If  our  love  to  Jesus  be  supreme,  He  accepts  the  condition  of 
His  worshipers.  To  Moses  on  the  rough  mountain-side,  He 
appeared  in  the  bush.  While  Israel  abode  in  tents,  the 
Shekinah  illuminated  "the  tabernacle  in  the  wilderness." 
When  the  people  of  God  came  to  dwell  in  sealed  houses,  no 
gold  or  gems  were  too  precious  to  adorn  the  temple  of  His 
praise.  This  comely  edifice  has  grown  out  of  the  principles 
of  your  fathers.  Attractive  to  childhood,  to  mature  mind, 
and  to  pious  affection,  may  this  new  temple  long  stand  a 
monument  of  the  endurance.,  principles.,  and  worship.,  of  the 
patriarchs  of  this  Zion. 

From  this  spire  may  tones  mellow  and  inviting  fall  upon 
the  ear.  May  this  orchestra  vibrate  the  praises  of  the  heart. 
From  this  pulpit  may 

"  The  violated  law  speak  out 
Its  thunders ;  and,  in  strains  more  sweet 
Than  angels  use,  the  Gospel  whisper  Peace." 

As  I  behold  in  this  audience  ministers  and  members  of 
other  churches,  I  rejoice  that  in  our  free,  Puritan  system, 
"life  takes  the  precedence  of  form,"  that  the  heart  is  left 
to  go  out  in  cordial  fellowship  to  every  disciple  of  our 
common  Redeemer.  .  .  . 

.  .  .  My  young  brethren,  the  old  trees  are  falling.  Let 
the  young  orchard  be  so  rooted  and  grafted  as  to  bear  fairer 
and  still  more  abundant  fruit.  As  to-day  we  look  into  the 
solemn  future,  we  inquire.  Shall  these  foundations  again 
be  relaid?  Shall  a  coming  generation  ever  regard  this 
structure  as  antiquated,  and  replace  it  by  a  type  of  still 
higher  order  and  taste,  —  a  type  still  further  removed  from 
"the  tabernacle  in  the  wilderness"?  In  another  century, 
shall  another  dedication  recall  your  memory?  God  grant 
that  you  may  be  so  true  to  the  trust  committed  to  you,  that 
it  may  then  appear  to  your  listening  spirits,  that  you  have 
transmitted  an  unimpaired,  yea  an  improved,  inheritance  to 
the  ages.  .  .  . 

Something  like  the  following  was  his  manner  of  jotting  down  the 
framework  of  an  extempore  discourse :  this  was  preached  on  a  funeral 
occasiou,  and  the  memoranda  taken  after  its  delivery  :  — 


220  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

Mark  4:35.  "And  the  same  day,  when  tlie  even  was 
come,  He  saith  unto  them,  Let  us  pass  over  to  the  other 
side." 

Describe  scenery  around  Lake  of  Galilee.  Jesus  in  boat. 
Hill,  Avhere  people  were  gathered  around  Him,  rising  gradu- 
ally from  the  shore.  Jesus  had  ])reached  all  day :  tired. 
Gave  command  of  text.  Beautiful  exhibition  of  human- 
ity and  divinity  of  our  Lord.  Jesus,  a  perfect  man.,  was 
weary ;  laid  "  His  head  on  a  pillow ; "  slept.  Resting  in 
gunwale  of  that  little  boat,  a  flaw  came  down  from  mountain, 
just  as  now.  Winds  roared,  waves  tossed  their  heads,  tem- 
pest raged.  These  noises  did  not  awaken  Jesus ;  but  the 
single  cry.,  the  prayer  of  His  disciples,  did  awaken  Him. 
Now  behold  His  divinity.  He  speaks  to  Avinds,  they  lulled 
to  rest ;  to  waves,  and  not  a  ripple.  "  There  was  a  great 
calm."  Christ  can  do  the  same  now  to  the  tossed  and  tried 
sjjirit. 

"  And  the  same  day,  when  the  even  was  come,  He  saith 
unto  them,  Let  us  pass  over  to  the  otlier  side." 

(1)  There  ts  "another  side."  Those  about  to  cross  the 
ocean  look  up  every  thing  in  regard  to  the  other  side. 
Strange  that  we  are  so  occupied  in  the  present  that  we  for- 
get "  the  other  side." 

(2)  Jesus  said,  "  Let  us  pass  over  to  the  other  side."  He 
does  not  say,  "  Pass  thou  over  to  the  other  side,"  but,  "  Let 
ws,"  etc.  Death  is  a  night  voyage.  It  may  be  stormy.  But 
Christ  will  be  loith  the  believer  as  he  passes  "over  to  the 
other  side."  AVhen  the  right,  the  best  time  comes.  He  will 
say,  "  Let  us  pass,"  etc. 

(3)  Blessedness  of  "  the  other  side."  —  An  evergreen 
shore,  immortal  youth,  no  weariness,  pain,  no  heartache,  no 
sin.  Refer  to  emigrants  who  embarked  on  our  ship  from 
northern  coast  of  Ireland.  True,  they  shed  some  tears  at 
parting,  but,  on  the  whole,  hopeful,  cheerful.  Their  treas- 
ures had  been  transferred ;  their  friends  had  gone  on  before. 
They  were  passing  "over  to  the  other  side,"  where  was  a 
"better  country."  The  Christian  is  going  to  "a  better 
country,  even  a  heavenly." 


THE   PASTOR.  221 

We  cannot  omit  an  allusion  to  the  vein  of  humor  that  was  so  truly  a 
part  of  Dr.  Eaton's  nature.  Curbed  and  consecrated  as  it  was,  it  proved 
a  handmaid  rather  than  a  hindrance  to  him  as  pastor  and  preacher. 
What  he  said  at  the  funeral  of  Columbus  Croul,  Esq.,  of  Lyons,  was 
literally  true  of  himself  :  — 

His  religion  sanctified  and  subsidized  for  good  a  natural 
trait  which  is  too  often  a  wayward  and  dangerous  gift. 
Mirth  twinkled  in  his  eye,  facetionsness,  pleasantry,  repartee, 
dropped  naturally  and  pleasantly  from  his  lips.  Tempered 
by  conscience,  restrained  by  kindness,  they  stopped  short  of 
sarcasm  and  of  foolish  jesting,  which  are  not  convenient. 
With  him,  "Wit  was  the  yeast  to  enliven  wisdom." 

He  enjoyed  fishing.  He  loved  to  mingle  in  the  sports  of  children. 
He  would  stand  at  his  window  and  with  delight  watch  the  boys  and 
girls  as  with  shouts  of  glee  they  coasted  down  the  sidewalk  in  front  of 
his  house. 

He  early  commenced  work  among  the  young  of  his  congregation.  To 
all  who  correctly  recited  the  Assembly's  Shorter  Catechism  he  presented 
a  gilt-edged  reference  Bible.  In  one  year  forty  or  fifty  obtained  this 
prize.  He  preached  a  series  of  sermons  to  the  children,  entitled  "  Home- 
ward Steps."  They  were  to  furnish  his  texts.  On  the  first  Sabbath 
they  were  each  to  bring  on  a  slip  of  paper  a  single  word  from  the  Bible. 
From  the  many  he  selected  one  as  the  theme  for  the  ensuing  Sabbath. 
Then  they  brought  texts  of  two  words,  then  of  three,  and  so  on.  Much 
interest  and  searching  of  the  Scriptures  were  excited  among  the  little 
people.  Late  in  life,  he  occasionally  made  a  short  sermon  to  the  children 
a  prelude  to  his  regular  Sabbath  morning's  discourse. 

The  Fu'st  Robin  of  the  Spring. 

Eccl.  10 :  20.  "  For  a  bird  of  the  air  shall  carry  the 
voice,  and  that  which  hath  wings  shall  tell  the  matter." 

The  last  summer  a  pair  of  robins  built  their  nest  in  the 
lone  apple-tree,  not  far  from  my  stud3'-window.  There  they 
rested,  watched,  and  fed  their  two  broods  of  young  ones ; 
there  they  sang  through  the  long,  bright,  summer  days. 
They  were  the  charm  of  the  garden.  After  the  last  rose  of 
summer  had  faded,  and  the  maple-leaf  had  grown  red  as  the 
bird's  breast,  at  the  sunset  hour,  the  robin  chanted  his  fare- 
well song. 


222  REV.   HORACE  EATON,  D.D. 

The  absence  of  the  robins  was  mourned  by  the  forsaken 
nest,  tlie  trees,  and  the  parsonage. 

On  the  glad  morning  of  the  12th  of  IMarcli,  the  hist  year's 
songster  was  again  in  the  top  of  his  ohl  apple-tree,  by  his 
old  nest.  His  voice  was  clearer,  louder,  richer,  than  ever 
before.  To  me,  it  was  the  first  robin  of  the  spring,  and 
started  some  grateful  and  profitable  reflections. 

As  the  dove  with  the  olive-branch  in  her  mouth  brought 
hope  to  Noah,  so  the  first  robin  brought  spring  on  his  wings, 
and  said,  "The  winter  is  over  and  gone."  Soon  will  follow 
the  warm  shower,  the  oriole,  the  tulip,  and  the  peach-blow. 

The  first  robin's  song  carried  me  back  to  the  springtime 
of  ray  life.  The  robin  was  the  favorite  bird  of  my  boyhood. 
It  was  ever  a  bright  day  when  the  first  robin  of  spring  came 
to  my  juountain  home  and  sung  his  first  carol  in  the  oak-tree 
down  before  the  east  door. 

As  the  same  moon  and  stars  that  shone  upon  me  in  life's 
young  morning  shine  upon  me  now,  so  the  same  robin  red- 
breast that  chanted  in  "  the  old  roof-tree  "  seems  now  singing 
in  my  own  garden,  though  so  far  away. 

Do  robins  ever  die?  Ask  your  father  and  mother  who 
attend  their  funeral,  where  is  their  burying-place. 

But  may  I  not  hold  a  short  dialogue  with  my  pilgrim 
robin,  and  ask  him  something  of  his  journal  and  his  journey? 
Dues  not  my  text  say,  "  That  which  hath  wings  shall  tell  the 
matter  "  ? 

"Well,  my  merry  bird,  why  did  you  leave  us  the  last 
fall?" 

"The  skies  began  to  scowl,  the  nest  grew  chill.  But, 
most  of  all,  the  grubs  we  ate  in  the  spring,  the  cherries  we 
shared  in  summer,  the  red  plums  on  which  we  lived  in 
autumn,  failed  us.     Cold  and  hunger  drove  us  away." 

"And  where  did  you  find  your  winter  home?" 

"Amid  the  palmetto  and  orange-groves  of  the  sunny 
South." 

"  Did  you  go  by  rail,  or  by  sail  ?  " 

"  Not  by  rail.  My  wings  were  my  sails.  I  did  not  pay 
my  passage :    I  worked   it.     My  course  was  the  air-line,  — 


THE  PASTOR.  223 

swift,  gay,  and  free.  If  storms  drove  from  the  north,  we 
outstripped  the  wind,  and  arrived  by  a  single  flight.  If 
the  sky\vas  fair,  at  inviting  fields  we  alighted  for  rest  and 

food."^ 

"  Where  is  vour  mate  this  mornnig  ? 

"She  is  on"  the  way,  and  will  soon  join  me  here.  I,  who 
am  a  bird  of  stronger  wing,  have  come  before  to  refit  our  old 
home,  and  prepare  for  housekeeping  anew.  Our  conjugal  tie 
is  for  life.     We  are  no  Mormons." 

"By  what  almanac  did  you  begin  your  voyage?  By  what 
guide-book,  compass,  chart,  did  you  direct  your  way  ?  " 

"I  cany  my  almanac,  compass,  and  chart  in  my  own  red 
breast.  He  that  made  me  guides  me.  '  Doth  the  hawk  fly 
by  thy  wisdom,  and  stretch  her  wings  toward  the  south? 
How  knoweth  the  stork  her  appointed  time  ?  the  crane  and 
the  swallow,  the  time  of  their  coming?'  Who  teaches  the 
blue-fish  navigation,  as  through  the  ocean-depths  he  comes 
back  to  the  day  to  his  native  shores  ?  " 
"  Why  did  you  come  north  this  spring?" 
"  The  north  is  my  home,  my  birthplace.  At  the  south  I 
roam  in  indolence  :  here  I  work,  sing,  and  rear  my  brood." 

Young  friends,  "  Behold  the  birds  of  the  air,"  their  coming, 
goin^,  their  beautiful  dress,  their  innocent  joy.  Love  the 
robin.  Listen  to  his  morning  and  evening  song,  and,  when 
the  parent  bird  sets  up  the  shrill  and  plaintive  cry  for  help 
to  rescue  her  young  from  the  prowling  enemy,  fly  to  her  aid. 
Dear  children,  God  has  given  you  a  life  above  that  of  the 
bird.  You  are  of  more  value  than  many  robins.  If  you 
love  the  Saviour,  you  will  some  day  fly  beyond  the  stars,  to 
have  your  home  in  the  garden,  the  paradise  of  God,  there 
to  sing  the  song  of  redeeming  love. 

Sermon  to  Children.     "  The  Man  in  the  Moon." 
Gen.    1:16.      "And    God   made    two    great    lights;    the 
greater  light  to    rule   the  day,  and  the  lesser  light  to  rule 

the  night."  r  j*  n     • 

Dear  children,  as  Adam  was  created  a  man  ot  tulL  size, 
how  do  you  suppose  he  felt  when  he  first  looked  up  into 


224  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

the  sky,  and  saw  the  sun  in  all  its  glory  ?  IIoay  did  he  feel 
as  the  snn  went  down  for  the  first  time  in  the  west,  the  first 
nififht  shuttincj  in  around  him?  Did  he  think  there  would 
ever  he  another  morning?  Was  it  not  a  cheering  sight  when 
the  full  moon  came  up  in  the  east,  and  led  on  her  train  of 
stars  through  the  sky  ? 

Tlie  soft  and  silvery  light  of  the  moon  is  easier  for  our  eyes 
than  the  dazzling  rays  of  the  sun,  and  Ave  can  look  at  it  more 
steadily.  Tiie  moon  is  beautiful  in  the  night.  It  is  the  orb 
nearest  the  earth.  Through  the  telescope  we  see  its  moun- 
tains. It  was  not  made  for  other  worlds :  it  is  our  lantern, 
hung  up  in  the  sky  to  guide  us  safely  by  night.  Young  eyes 
love  to  watch  its  changes, —  the  new,  the  full,  "the  harvest 
moon."  To  the  ancient  shepherds  Avho  kept  their  flocks  by 
night,  the  dark  spots  on  the  moon  presented  the  nose,  the 
eyes,  the  mouth,  of  a  human  face :  hence  they  spoke,  as  we 
do,  of  "  the  man  in  the  moon."  It  is  an  innocent  fancy^ 
which  we  may  for  a  moment  treat  as  a  reality. 

"  The  man  in  the  moon  "  is  very  ayed.  He  is  older  than 
Adam.  He  looked  down  on  Eden,  where  the  tree  of  knowl- 
edge and  the  tree  of  life  grew.  Though  wrinkled,  he  is  not 
yet  gray.  He  will  hold  on  to  attend  the  funeral  of  the  last 
of  the  sons  of  earth.  We  shall  then  no  longer  need  his  light, 
and  his  lamp  will  go  out. 

Dear  children,  when  you  look  the  "  man  in  the  moon  "  full 
in  the  face,  you  see  the  same  old  character  that  Adam,  Noah, 
and  Job  saw. 

The  "■  man  in  the  moon  "  is  ati  exact  time-keeper.  In  some 
cities  they  have  a  tower-clock  as  a  regulator,  by  which  they 
set  their  watches.  "  God  appointed  the  moon  for  times,  for 
seasons."  The  Jews,  the  Egyptians,  the  Druids,  looked  to 
the  new  moon  for  the  beginning  of  their  months.  New 
moons  measured  off  their  years.  New  moons  fixed  the  day 
of  their  feasts.  The  increasing  moon  they  trusted:  the 
waning  moon  they  feared. 

The  "  man  in  the  moon  "  is  a  yreat  discoverer.  Columbus 
found  America;  but  the  "man  in  the  moon,"  in  his  first 
balloon-voyage,  looked  down  on  all  continents,  islands,  rivers, 


THE  PASTOR.  225 

oceans,  and  polar  seas.  This  eye-witness  in  the  moon  not 
only  sees  places,  but  things  that  have  been  done,  both  good 
and  evil.  Could  this  old  observer  speak,  he  miglit  tell  us  of 
the  wild  flight  of  Adam  and  Eve  from  the  garden,  of  Noah 
riding  in  safety  over  a  drowned  world,  of  the  ruin  of  Babel, 
the  wanderings  of  Israel  in  the  wilderness,  the  grave  of 
Moses,  the  destruction  of  Sodom,  Babylon,  Palmyra,  and 
Jerusalem.  The  moon  in  full  orb  shone  on  Christ  in  His 
agony  in  sad  Gethsemane,  and  on  His  sepulchre. 

TJie  "  man  in  the  moon  "  is  kind  in  his  influence.  He  never 
sleeps  in  his  watch-tower.  He  holds  out  his  lamp  to  the  tem- 
pest-tossed on  the  sea,  to  the  wrecked  on  the  shore.  He 
throws  light  on  the  path  of  the  lost  child,  and  guides  the 
traveler  over  the  desolate  moor.  To  give  Joshua  the  victory 
in  battle,  he  stood  still  in  the  Valley  of  Aijalon.  By  his 
timely  ray  he  saved  Constantinople  from  its  besiegers,  and 
ever  since,  that  city  has  held  up  the  crescent  as  the  emblem 
of  its  national  safety. 

How  much  do  we  all  owe  to  the  moon  as  it  shines  into  our 
whidows,  and  lights  us  on  our  way!  The  "man  in  the 
moon  "  never  turns  his  back  on  our  world.  He  always  keeps 
the  same  honest  face  toward  old  and  young,  rich  and  poor. 

Children,  when  you  see  the  new  moon  over  the  right  or 
over  the  left  shoulder  (it  makes  no  difterence  which),  tliink 
of  the  goodness  of  God,  that  through  all  the  ages  has  given 
men  so  charming  a  light  by  night.  When  you  trace  the 
features  of  the  human  face  in  the  full  moon,  resolve  to  be 
always  at  your  post,  whether  it  be  at  work,  or  at  church,  or 
at  the  Sabbath-school.  »  Where  duty  calls,  or  danger,  be 
never  wanting  there."  The  "man  in  the  moon"  never  leaves 
his  post. 

Be  prompt  — in  your  seat  at  school,  everywhere.  The 
"  man  in  the  moon  "  is  never  tardy  a  second. 

In  itself  the  moon  is  dark.  It  borrows  all  the  light  it  has 
from  the  sun,  and  sends  it  down  into  our  gloomy  nights.  So 
you,  my  dear  children,  have  no  light  in  yourselves.  But  if 
you  look  to  Jesus,  and  study  the  Bible,  you  may  receive  light 
from   Christ,  the   Sun  of   righteousness,   and    by  word    and 


22G  REV.    HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

example  you  may  enlighten  those  who  liave  lost  their  way, 
and  lead  them  into  paths  of  safety  and  peace. 

Semion  to  Cliildi'en.     The  Xorth  Star. 

Job  22:12.  ''Behold  the  height  of  the  stars,  Iiow  high 
they  are ! " 

Dear  children,  I  knew  a  very  good  woman, ^  who  lived 
almost  a  hundred  years.  She  was  born  on  one  of  the  cold, 
bleak  hills  of  Massachusetts.  She  told  me  that  when  she 
was  a  child  she  was  out  one  winter's  evening,  and  that  her 
eyes  and  thoughts  were  directed  above,  to  the  stars.  She 
said  she  was  so  impressed  with  the  greatness,  goodness,  and 
purity  of  God,  and  with  her  own  littleness,  dependence,  and 
sinfulness,  that  there  alone,  under  the  stars,  she  gave  up  her 
heart  in  penitence  and  prayer  to  the  Saviour.  Vrom  that 
time  onward  to  the  end  of  life,  she  regarded  that  looking-up 
to  "the  height  of  the  stars"  as  blessed  by  the  Holy  Spirit  to 
her  conversion.  In  her  long  life  she  was  the  means  of 
"turning  many  to  righteousness,"  and  no  doubt,  according 
to  the  promise,  she  herself  is  to  "  shiue  as  a  star  for  ever  and 
ever." 

Young  friends,  if  you  should  give  yourselves  to  counting 
the  stars  this  evening  as  they  begin  to  peep  out  after  sunset, 
you  could  with  the  naked  eye  number  some  seven  thousand. 
Should  you  look  through  a  good  telescope,  millions  of  stars 
would  seem  to  you  like  golden  dust  on  the  floor  of  heaven. 
Some  stars  are  larger,  brighter,  nearer,  than  others.  Some 
stars  arc  constantly  changing  their  places. 

But  there  is  one  star  that  docs  not  move.  Job  says,  "  God 
stretcheth  out  the  north  over  the  empty  place."  If  you  look 
away  over  Greeidand  and  the  frozen  ocean,  you  will  see  a 
star  fixed  in  that  "  em^ity  place,"  set  fast  like  a  diamond  in 
the  sky.  While  northern  lights  flasli,  while  meteors  blaze 
and  die  out,  while  comets  come  and  go,  that  star  always 
shines  from  the  same  spot  with  a  kind  and  steady  ray. 

This  North  Star  is  that  faithful  old  sentinel  to  which  the 


1  Mrs.  Dr.  Gain  llobinson. 


THE  PASTOR.  227 

sailor-boy  looks  when  he  keeps  his  midnight  watch  on  deck, 
far,  far  at  sea.  He  remembers  that  this  star  shines  down 
upon  the  cot  where  he  was  born. 

The  North  Star  has  lighted  many  a  slave-mother  fleeing 
with  her  child  before  bloodhounds  and  negro-hnnters  to  the 
land  of  the  free.  To  those  out  on  the  ocean  sailing,  to  those 
lost  on  the  prairie  or  the  desert,  it  has  been  a  safe  guide, 
a  true  friend. 

Another  wonder  about  the  North  Star.  The  magnetic 
needle  of  the  sailor's  compass  cares  very  little  for  other  stars, 
but  always  points  for  its  rest  and  home  to  the  North  Star. 
Guided  by  the  compass  and  the  North  Star,  the  ship  makes 
her  way  through  rough  and  stormy  seas  to  the  distant  port. 

Now,  dear  children,  what  the  North  Star  is  to  the  tempest- 
tossed  mariner,  so  is  Christ  to  those  out  on  the  perilous 
voyage  of  life.  He  is  the  sure  guide.  In  the  very  morning 
of  your  days  you  need  a  friend  to  whom  it  is  safe  to  look, 
as  the  sailor  looks  to  the  North  Star. 

"  Behold  the  height  of  the  stars,  how  high  they  are  !  "  how 
many,  how  bright,  they  are  !  See  God  in  the  stars.  They 
are  His  thoughts.  His  work,  and,  like  the  aged  saint  of  whom 
I  have  spoken,  submit  your  heart  in  childhood  to  Him. 
Take  Christ,  the  Star  of  Bethlehem,  as  your  light,  your 
guide.  Then,  as  the  North  Star  attracts  the  needle  of  the 
sailor's  compass,  so  Christ  will  touch  the  needle  of  your 
heart  with  His  love.  He  will  be  your  delight.  You  will 
sail  under  a  faithful  pilot  with  an  unerring  compass  and 
chart,  and  though  seas  be  boisterous  and  wild,  you  will  come 
safe  to  the  haven,  you  Avill  anchor  in  the  harbor. 

Will  not  each  one  of  you  take  Jesus  as  the  Polar  Star  of 
your  faith,  your  hope,  your  life  ? 

Dr.  Eaton  was  ever  at  the  front  on  the  question  of  temperance.  He 
was  a  total  abstainer  at  home  and  abroad.  No  water  in  Naples  or  Rome 
was  so  impure  tliat  bringing  it  up  to  212°  Fahrenheit  and  an  effusion 
of  tea  or  coffee  did  not  render  it  safe  for  him.  Persistent  waiters  in 
hotel  or  steamer,  being  before  instructed  of  their  employers,  and  deter- 
mined to  run  up  a  wine-bill,  did  not  intimidate  him.  In  the  pleasant 
company  with  whom  he  traveled  in  Egypt,  he  had  friends  who  feared 


228  liEV.    HORACE   EATON,    D.D. 

the  results  of  his  abstemiousness  upon  his  health,  as  did  the  ancient 
steward  for  the  four  young  protcrjh  of  tlie  Babylonian  king.  But  when 
he,  the  oldest  of  the  party,  reached  the  ground  from  the  top  of  the  Pyra- 
mid of  Cheops,  they  gathered  around  him,  and  exclaimed  with  cheers, 
<'  Bravo,  Dr.  Eaton !  We  will  urge  you  no  longer  to  partake  of  our  wine. 
You  have  more  courage  and  strength  without  it  tlian  we  with  it." 

At  tlie  last  meeting  of  General  Assembly  to  which  he  was  a  delegate, 
held  at  IMadison,  Wis.,  May,  1880,  he  was  appointed  one  of  a  com- 
mittee of  nine  "  to  consider  the  expediency  of  establishing  a  permanent 
committee  of  the  General  Assembly  on  Temperance."  This  permanent 
committee  made  its  first  report  in  1882.  When  Hon.  Williani  E.  Dodge, 
its  chairman,  was  removed  by  death,  it  was  Dr.  Eaton's  prayer  that  the 
mantle  of  that  standard-bearer  might  fall  upon  some  one  equally  wise 
and  fearless. 

While  he  welcomed  every  remedial  agency  and  organization,  he  never- 
theless believed  that  the  Christian  Church  had  a  most  important  work  to 
perform  in  the  cause  of  temperance,  and  that  influences  from  the  cross  of 
Christ  and  from  the  Holy  Spirit  were  to  be  relied  on  to  give  success  to 
efforts  for  the  recovery  of  the  fallen.  He  was  assured  the  time  would  ere 
long  come  when  the  disciples  of  Jesus  would  utterly  and  forever  free 
themselves  froni  all  complicity  with  the  rum  traffic,  at  whatever  cost  of 
money,  position,  or  political  preferment. 

By  example  and  precej^t,  Dr.  Eaton  sought  to  encourage  the  keeping 
of  the  Sabbath  day.     In  a  letter  he  says  :  — 

I  always  loved  the  Sabbath.  It  was  ever  a  pleasant  day 
at  the  old  home.  I  was  never  wearied  in  reading  the  Bible, 
or  listening  to  my  mother's  good  words.  But  then  perhaps 
it  was  a  matter  of  romance,  of  sympathy  with  friends.  Now 
I  think  I  have  an  inward  spiritual  delight  in  the  Lord's  Day. 
It  is  to  me  a  foretaste  of  the  rest  that  remains. 

We  copy  a  few  paragraphs  from  a  report  presented  by  him  at  an 
Annual  Meeting  of  Geneva  Presbytery,  held  at  Palmyra,  Feb.  7,  1854. 
It  was  upon  the  question,  "  Is  it  right  for  a  member  of  the  church  to 
collect  toll  at  the  gate  of  a  plank  road  upon  the  Sabbath  ?  " 

The  discoveries,  improvements,  and  changes  of  every 
succeeding  period,  bring  the  churcli  in  contact  with  new 
duties  and  temptations,  and  yet  the  Holy  Scriptures  do  not 
pretend  to  describe  the  minutlce  of  every  lawful  or  unlawful 
act,  nor  to  give  specific  directions  for  every  position  in  which 
tho  Christian   may  be  placed.      Between  the  lines  of  right 


THE   PASTOR. 


229 


and  wrong,  so  clearly  defined  as  not  to  admit  of  donbt,  there 
is  often  a  space  ^vhere  the  honest  inqnirer  may  for  a  time 
innocently  hesitate.  Bnt  if  tlie  Bible  does  not  prescribe  the 
precise  steps  of  duty,  in  all  the  varying  circumstances  of  our 
probationary  state,  the  spirit  and  great  principles  of  conduct 
are  so  clearly  revealed  and  illustrated  that  the  mind  candidly 
asking,  "  Lord,  what  wilt  thou  have  me  to  do,"  will  not  long 
remain  without  clear  and  definite  conviction  in  regard  to  the 
course  most  consistent  with  the  revealed  will  of  God. 

"But  if  to  collect  toll  is  Sabbath  desecration,  then  the 
compan?/  break  the  Sabbath  by  employing  men  to  do  it:' ^  This 
deduction  from  our  positions  we  must  admit  to  be  legitimate. 
David  committed  murder  by  another.  What  we  do  by  our 
agent,  we  do  ourselves.  In  human  law  this  is  a  principle  of 
settled  authority.  The  man  who  only  aids  and  abets  stealing, 
forging,  counterfeiting,  is  held  guilty  of  the  crime. 

ff  the  collector  at  a  toll-gate  should  overcharge  or  abuse 
the  public,  the  company  would  be  accountable  for  the  work 
of  their  agent.  What,  then,  shall  we  say  of  the  moral 
accountability  of  the  company  who  invest  their  money,  and 
employ  their  agents,  in  Sabbath-breaking  establishments? 
What  though  the  disciple  of  Christ  may  go  to  the  house 
of  God,  yea,  come  into  the  sacred  desk,  yet  if  he  employ 
men  in  forbidden  labor  upon  the  Sabbath,  is  he  not  as  really 
implicated  in  breaking  the  Sabbath  as  though  he  were  a 
conductor  of  a  Sabbath  train,  or  a  collector  of  tolls  on  the 
Sabbatli  day?  If  individuals  are  held  to  keep  the  Sabbath 
day  holy,  then  any  associated  number  are  bound  to  keep  the 
Sabbath  day  holy.  No  company  or  corporation  can  become 
so  rich  or  numerous  as  to  defy  the  command  of  God  with 
impunity.  This  should  be  well  considered  by  every  professor 
of  religion  who  holds  stock  in  the  great  Sabbath-breaking 
enterprises  of  the  day. 

But  does  any  one  thus  implicated  inquire.  What  shall  I 
do?  We  answer,  Before  you  invested,  you  should  have 
known  that  your  property  would  not  have  been  employed  in 
violation  of  the  holy  day.  It  is  a  poor  stewardship  to  use 
God's  money  against  His  Sabbath. 


230  nEV.  JionACE  nArnx,  7)./). 

But  you  are  already  implicated.  Then  bring  all  your 
individual  and  corporate  influence  to  bring  back  these  other- 
wise noble  agencies  from  the  desecration  of  the  Sabbath. 
Let  the  people  of  God  present  a  bold,  united  front  against 
this  great  evil,  and  they  will  be  rescued  from  the  service  of 
Satan.  Give  us  the  key  to  the  treasures  belonging  to  the 
church  in  this  country,  and  we  can  command  the  observance 
of  the  sacred  hours  by  all  these  great  enterprises.  We  have 
God  with  us.  We  have  the  consciences,  yea,  the  interests,  of 
worldly  men  with  us. 

We  believe  it  is  the  cowering,  yielding  cupidity  of  the 
church  that  is  accountable  in  a  great  degree  for  this  increas- 
ing evil. 

But  you  say  you  have  done  all  3'ou  can,  and  have  no  hope 
of  reformation.  Railroads,  plank-roads,  —  they  will  continue 
to  break  the  Sabbath.  Then  the  word  of  God  is  plain, 
"Come  out  of  them,  my  people,"  be  not  "a  partaker  of 
their  sins."  Sacrifice,  if  need  be.  Be  not  accessory  to  the 
desecration  of  God's  holy  day.  Hundreds  of  good  men  have 
already  done  it.  J^et  all  good  men  do  it.  Let  them  stand 
aloof  from  Sabbath-breaking  railroads,  plank-roads,  and  all 
Sabbath-breaking  enterprises,  and  what  a  change  would 
come  over  our  villages,  our  churches,  our  land !  The  busi- 
ness, the  voluj)tuousness,  the  intemperance  of  this  age,  are 
pressing  upon  the  sacred  enclosure  of  the  Sabbath.  ]\Iillions 
swarm  among  us  from  other  countries  where  the  true  idea 
of  a  Christian  Sabbath  is  not  known.  If  God's  people  do 
not  conscientiously  observe  the  Sabbath,  and  stand  boldly  by 
it,  this  moral  sky-light  will  be  sliut  up,  Egyptian  darkness 
will  close  in  around  us,  and  the  hopes  of  our  country  go  out 
in  despair. 

The  above  argument  has  been  strictly  confined  to  the 
question  placed  at  the  head  of  this  discussion.  Are  not  the 
principles  e(|ually  fitted  to  try  the  right  or  wrong  of  other 
practices  in  this  community?  We  urge  a  self-applying  con- 
sitleration  of  the  above  positions  upon  every  stockholder  and 
agent  of  Sabbath-running  railroads,  upon  collectors,  for- 
warders, lock-tenders,  and  boatmen  engaged  on  our  canals. 


THE  PASTOR.  231 

]Must  not  the  professed  disciple  of  Christ  regard  the  Sab- 
bath Labor  connected  with  each  of  these  employments  as  at 
least  doubtful,  and  as  presenting  the  appearance  of  evil; 
yea,  more,  as  an  actual  infraction  of  the  letter  and  spirit  of 
the  command,  "  Remember  the  Sabbath  day  to  keep  it  holy"? 

Dr.  Eaton  used  to  cite  the  manifest  tokens  of  divine  favor  on  the 
Chautauqua  Association,  as  connected  with  their  consistent  example  in 
literally  following  the  command  given  by  JSTehemiah  (13  :  19)  :  "  And 
it  came  to  pass  when  the  gates  of  Jerusalem  began  to  be  dark  before 
the  Sabbath,  I  commanded  that  the  gates  should  be  shut,  and  charged 
that  they  should  not  be  opened  till  after  the  Sabbath ;  and  some  of  my 
servants  set  I  at  the  gates." 

In  his  private  and  public  prayers,  Dr.  Eaton  did  not  so  much  inform 
Jehovah  at  length  of  creeds  or  events,  as  tell  Him  his  needs,  his  wants. 
Oblivious  to  every  thing  about  him,  with  becoming  reverence  and  loving 
trust,  he  poured  out  his  soul  before  the  Lord.  All  who  heard  him  felt 
that  he  was  in  the  presence  of  some  one  whom  he  had  met  before,  and 
who  was  then  listening  to  him.  None  but  God,  and  those  most  intimate 
with  him,  knew  how  truly  prayer  was  the  habit  of  his  life.  Ejaculatory 
prayer,  "  shooting-up  prayers,"  as  he  phrased  it,  sending  brief  messages 
to  the  mercy-seat  at  all  times,  unobserved  by  men,  he  esteemed  a  delight- 
ful privilege.  But  he  never  allowed  this  practice  to  forestall  his  regular 
seasons  of  prayer,  when  he  entered  into  his  closet  and  shut  the  door. 
Often,  when  wrestling  with  God,  his  eyes  were  held  waking.  How  was 
he  wont  to  plead  to  be  delivered  from  "self-seeking,  self-will,  and  dis- 
trust of  God  " !  Thus  one  spiritual  foe  after  another  was  vanquished,  one 
victory  after  another  won.  With  him  the  trend  was  ever  upward. 
What  were  snares  before  lost  all  power  to  annoy.  "Out  of  weakness  he 
was  made  strong."  What  he  considered  his  shortcomings  and  imperfec- 
tions were  transmuted,  by  prayer  and  the  blessed  alchemy  of  the  cross, 
into  "spiritual  symmetry  and  power,"  until,  to  those  who  looked  on  from 
the  nearest  view,  it  seemed  that  the  apostle's  words,  "  Triumph  in  Christ," 
were  written  on  his  whole  nature.  Nothing  was  further  from  his  thought 
than  that  he  had  "already  attained,  either  were  already  perfect";  but, 
like  Paul,  he  did  "follow  after,"  he  did  "reach  forth  unto  those  things 
which  were  before,"  he  did  "press  toward  the  mark  for  the  prize  of  the 
high  calling  of  God  in  Christ  Jesus." 


CHAPTER  IX. 

JOURNEY  TO  ENGLAND  AND  IRELAND.  —  "FIRST  NIGHT 
AT  SEA."  —  RESIGNATION.  —  CLOSING  SERMON  AS  TAS- 
TOR.  —  THOUGHTS  FOR  THE  AGED. — CHARGE  TO  THE 
PEOPLE  AT  ORDINATION  AND  INSTALLATION  OF  HIS 
SUCCESSOR.  —  LAST    FOUR    YEARS   AND    A   HALF   OF    LIFE. 

LABORS    AT    MARION,    N.Y. — LIGHT    AT    EVENING   TIME. 

LETTERS. 

In  October,  1878,  Dr.  Eaton  took  a  short  trip  to  Great  Britain.  He 
had  been  suffering  for  a  few  weeks  previous  from  malaria.  Tliis  made 
him  more  willing  to  accept  the  kind  invitation  of  liis  friend.  He  hoped 
to  come  home  well,  and  fresh  for  earnest,  spiritual  work  in  his  parish  at 
the  opening  of  the  winter.  The  anticipated  benefit  was  not  realized. 
The  effects  of  a  violent  cold  taken  just  before  sailing  were  severe  and 
protracted.  He  prefaces  a  sermon  preached  on  his  return  by  a  short 
account  of  his  journey  :  — 

William  R.  Hart,  Esq.,  thirty  years  ago  a  resident  of  Pal- 
myra and  a  student  in  our  Union  School,  now  a  merchant 
in  Philadelphia,  feeling  the  necessity  of  a  short  season  of 
recreation,  with  a  large  generosity  but  a  strange  preference, 
sent  to  me  an  urgent  invitation  to  accompany  him  in  a  trip 
to  England.  During  the  last  three  months,  fearful  storms 
have  swept  the  sea,  and  strewed  many  a  shore  with  wrecks. 
Our  voyage  out  was  tempestuous.  On  the  thirteenth  day 
we  came  in  sight  of  the  Irish  coast.  "  Land  ahead,"  "  Ban- 
try  Bay,"  "Cape  Clear,"  "Galley  Head,"  "Old  Head  of 
Kinsale,"  "  Fastnet  Rock,"  "  Roches'  Point,"  were  the  suc- 
cessive cries  as  we  approached  the  splendid  harbor  of  Queens- 
town.  We  saw  this  city  under  a  bright  sun  and  a  brilliant 
sky.  Our  eyes  were  drawn  to  the  fortifications,  to  Spike 
Island,  and  tlie  amphitheatre  of  mansions  rising  one  above 
another  around  the  shore.  Romantic  scenery  lined  the  River 
Lee,  as  we  passed  up  fourteen  miles  to  Cork.     There   we 


LIGHT  AT  EVENING    TIME.  233 

were  specially  diverted  by  the  green  lawns  tinged  with  yel- 
low, by  the  dike  shaded  by  the  yew  and  the  laurel,  and  by 
Father  Mathew's  monument  in  the  market-place.  Just  out 
of  Cork  we  passed  Blarney  Castle.  For  kissing  the  Blarney- 
stone  the  train  made  no  provision.  From  Cork  around 
through  Tipperary,  Queen's,  and  Kildare  counties,  to  Dublin, 
was  one  hundred  and  sixty-four  miles.  The  whole  way  we 
watched  with  interest  the  rural  felicity  and  infelicity, — 
stacks  of  grain  and  hay,  fields  where  men  and  women  were 
gathering  their  harvests  of  roots,  now  a  lordly  dwelling, 
then  a  straw-thatched  cottage  or  more  comfortable  home, 
churches  and  graveyards,  —  all  dear  to  many  a  heart  in 
America.  The  attractions  of  the  Irish  capital  Avere  the 
River  Liffe}^  the  castle,  cathedral,  park,  university,  and  a 
grand  temperance  convocation,  in  which  Protestants  and 
Romanists  were  united  in  fervent  zeal.  Across  the  Irish 
Channel,  from  Dublin  to  Hollyhead  in  Wales,  was  a  de- 
lightful sail  of  three  hours.  Through  North  Wales  to 
Chester  we  watched  the  well-cultivated  fields,  the  black 
cattle,  the  mountains,  mines,  manufactures,  and  modest 
churches  of  these  unconquered,  original  Britons.  Chester, 
that  old  city,  with  its  Roman  wall  and  battle-ground,  where 
iron  Romans  first  contended  with  Britons,  and  where  Crora- 
Avell's  "Ironsides"  conquered  the  cavaliers  of  Charles  I., 
next  commanded  our  time  and  thought ;  then  to  Liverpool, 
that  centre  of  the  world's  commerce,  with  her  eight  miles 
of  docks  up  and  down  the  Mersey  ("the  quality  of  which 
is  not  strained  ")  ;  then  on  two  hundred  miles  over  the  rail- 
road, where  George  Stephenson  made  his  first  trial  of  the 
steam  locomotive. —  This  brought  us  to  Trafalgar  Square. 
Every  road  leads  to  London;  every  thing  is  marked  for 
London;  and  so  were  we.  Here  antiquities  and  wonders 
multiply  to  any  extent.  The  sun,  meanwhile,  was  in  a 
chronic  eclipse.  The  obelisk  once  hidden  from  the  eyes 
of  Moses  by  the  three-days'  darkness,  now  transferred  to 
the  shore  of  the  Thames,  was  shrouded  from  our  eyes  by 
the  London  fog.  By  the  cold,  thick,  corroding  atmosphere 
of  London,  we  were  driven  two  hundred  and  fifty  miles  to 


234  REV.  HORACE  EATON;   D.D. 

the  south  of  England,  to  Devonshire,  Plymouth,  Torquay, 
where  the  soft  breath  of  the  continent  ijivites  the  traveler 
and  the  invalid.  Here  we  remained  till  we  returned  by 
the  way  of  London  to  Liverpool.  On  the  4th  of  Decem- 
ber we  embarked  on  the  "Ohio"  for  Philadelphia.  The 
ocean,  so  furious  in  our  going  out,  wore  a  uniform  smile  on 
our  return.     Nine  days  brought  us  to  our  native  shore. 

The  First  Night  at  Sea  (Ps.  107  :  23-32). 

.  .  .  This  night  compels  to  a  searching  revieiv  of  the  heart 
and  life. 

When  the  sun  shines,  when  the  tide  of  life  moves  gayly, 
we  too  often  forget  God  our  Maker;  but  danger  brings  us  to 
our  senses.  "  Lord,  in  trouble  have  they  visited  thee.  They 
poured  out  a  prayer  when  thy  chastening  was  upon  them." 
A  night  of  peril  will  flash  before  the  soul  the  follies,  impuri- 
ties, dishonesties  of  life,  which  we  feel  we  cannot  take  with 
us  into  the  presence  of  Jehovah.  A  storm  at  sea  has  brought 
many  a  careless  heart  face  to  face  with  God,  there  to  relax 
its  hold  of  idols,  and  to  cast  them  overboard.  Paul  Avas  a 
night  and  a  day  in  the  sea ;  and  is  not  his  word  to  the  Corin- 
thian Church  tinged  with  this  experience  ?  —  "  Ye  sorrowed 
after  a  godly  sort.  What  carefulness  it  wrought  in  you, 
yea,  what  clearing  of  yourselves,  yea,  what  indignation,  yea, 
what  fear,  yea,  what  vehement  desire,  yea,  what  zeal,  yea, 
what  revenge."  The  conviction  of  God's  greatness  and  our 
own  insignificance  brought  us  next  to  the  supporting  assur- 
ance that  the  goapcl  is  the  only  religion  for  the  tempest^  for 
a  shipwrecked  soul,  for  a  shipwrecked  world.  Our  God  is 
available  in  the  storm.  "  Our  God  is  the  God  of  salvation." 
John  Wesley,  when  coming  to  America,  was  overtaken  by 
a  tempest,  which  aroused  his  fears.  In  the  cabin  he  met  two 
Moravian  missionaries  awaiting  in  cheerful  calmness  the 
result  of  the  storm.  He  asked  the  ground  of  their  serenity. 
"Our  Father,"  they  replied,  "holds  the  winds  in  His  fists. 
Our  Saviour  is  at  the  helm.  We  are  assured  He  will  do  all 
things  well."  This  testimony  was  blessed  to  Mr.  Wesley. 
From  this  time  he  entered  into  more  abiding  peace. 


LIGHT  AT  EVENING    TIME.  235 

In  our  outward  voyage,  a  poor  spent  bird  from  the  Irish 
coast,  driven  a  thousand  miles  before  the  wind,  took  refuge 
in  the  rigging  of  our  ship.  A  kind  hand  caught  the  lost  one, 
supplied  meat  for  its  hunger,  and  a  cage  for  its  rest.  Soon 
the  stranger  began  to  utter  sounds  of  confidence  and  con- 
tentment. Although  of  the  raven  brood,  a  carrion  bird,  a 
bird  of  ill-omen,  yet  such  distress,  such  trust,  conciliated  all 
hearts,  and  secured  the  pledge  that  it  should  be  restored  to 
the  green  isle  where  it  once  nestled  under  the  parental  wing. 
Faith  saved  it  from  a  watery  grave. 

By  the  winds  of  passion  have  we  been  driven  on  restless, 
weary  wing  from  the  shore  of  peace  ?  Where  can  we  fly  for 
refuge  from  the  storm?  "Where  but  to  the  gospel  ark?  A 
divine  hand  is  there,  ready  to  take  in  every  repentant  and 
believing  spirit. 

"  There  safe  thou  shalt  abide, 
There  sweet  shall  be  thy  rest, 
And  every  longing  satisfied 
With  full  salvation  blest." 

From  his  diary :  — 

Feb.  3,  1879.  Good  house  yesterday.  Communion  ser- 
vice. My  sermon  was  on  the  texts,  "  When  I  am  weak,  then 
am  I  strong";  "I  can  do  all  things  through  Christ  which 
strengtheneth  me."  After  the  last  hymn  I  asked  the  audi- 
ence to  be  seated,  read  to  them  my  resignation,  and  hastened 
home  without  a  word  to  anybody. 

The  following  is  a  copy  of  this  paper :  — 

To  the  Western  Presbyterian  Church  and  Congregation,  Palmyra, 
N.  Y. :  — 

Dear  Brethren  and  Sisters,  —  For  years  I  have  lived 
in  view  of  the  moment  when  it  would  be  the  will  of  our 
common  Master  that  the  relation  between  us,  of  pastor  and 
people,  should  be  dissolved.  The  thirtieth  anniversary  of 
my  coming  among  you  will  occur  on  Wednesday  of  this 
week,  the  5th  inst.  I  have  thought  it  timely  to  fix  my 
resignation  on  this  Sabbath.  No  one  has  suggested  this  step 
to  me.  But  my  own  acquaintance  with  the  duties  of  the 
Sabbath,  the  calls  of  the  sick  and  dying,  the   necessity  of 


236  EEV.   HORACE  EATOX,   D.D. 

frequent  visitation  over  a  large  and  widely  extended  congre- 
gation, has  led  me  to  shrink  from  furtlier  assuming  these 
responsibilities.  In  tendering  my  resignation,  be  assured  of 
my  confidence  in  your  attachment,  and  my  gratitude  for 
your  co-operation,  generosity,  and  forbearance.  I  love  this 
flock  too  well  to  remain  its  pastor  one  hour  longer  than  its 
best  interests  demand.  To  give  you  and  myself  an  opportu- 
nity of  making  the  changes  consequent  upon  the  dissolution 
of  the  pastoral  relation,  I  would  name  the  last  Sabbath  of 
April  as  the  time  of  my  closing  service. 

Your  servant  for  Jesus'  sake, 

Horace  Eaton. 

He  thus  briefly  ■writes  to  his  sister :  — 

Makch  11,  1879. 

I  have  met  m}"  thirtieth  anniversary  with  a  resignation. 

1.  The  duties  increased. 

2.  'Sly  strength  did  not  increase. 

3.  ]My  beloved  wife  is  breaking  down  under  the  care  of 
her  mother,  —  now  eighty-six  years  of  age,  —  and  other 
duties.  We  both  need  rest.  I  think  I  have  done  right  and 
that  God  will  go  with  me.  I  see  great  imperfections  during 
these  years.    My  only  hope  is  that  I  have  a  great  Saviour.  .  .  . 

The  action  of  the  church  and  society  toward  him  at  this  time  was  in 
eveiy  respect  most  gratifying  and  sustaining,  —  all  that  a  filial,  loving 
people  could  do ;  aU  that  the  sensitive  heart  so  knit  to  them  could  think 
of  asking. 

Two  letters  —  one  from  a  home  missionary'  in  the  West,  and  the  other 
from  a  foreign  missionary  in  the  East  —  gave  expression  to  the  feelings 
of  many  at  the  unexpected  tidings. 

Brkxiiam,  Tex. 

Editor  Journal.  —  Your  issue  of  last  week  is  now  seven 
days  old ;  but  it  was  only  on  Tuesday  that  I  received  it.  To 
me  as  to  many  others  its  most  interesting  matter  is  Dr. 
Eaton's  letter  of  resignation.  The  New  York  "  Evangelist " 
is  not  astray  when  it  says,  "  Thousands  will  regret  to  learn 
that  Rev.  H.  Eaton,  D.D.,  pastor  in  Palmyra  the  last  thirty 
years,  has  tendered  his  resignation.  This  has  been  an  excep- 
tionally pleasant  pastorate.     By  thirty  years  of  patient,  able, 


LIGHT  AT  EVEXIXG    TIME.  237 

and  loving  service,  Dr.  Eaton  has  become  tenderly  enshiined 
in  the  affections  of  the  old  and  the  young.  And  in  Lyons 
Presb}i:ery  he  has  long  been  regarded  with  love  and  venera- 
tion as  the  patriarch  of  the  body."  Such  words  are  only  too 
tame.  There  are  many  of  us  to  whom  these  tidings  bring 
grief.  Palmyra  without  Dr.  Eaton  would  not  be  Palmyra. 
We  have  never  known  it  so  bereft.  There  are  indeed 
tliousands  to  rise  up  and  call  the  good  —  I  cannot  say  old  — 
man  blessed.  It  was  a  very  exceptional  privilege  which  we 
eujoyed  who  had  him  for  our  only  pastor.  That  is  one  thing 
I  would  not  change  if  I  had  the  opportunity  to  live  my  life 
over  again.  There  never  was  any  nonsense  about  Horace 
Eaton.  An  honest  scholar,  a  sturdy  thinker,  he  gave  his 
people  the  very  marrow  of  truth.  Xo  one  will  question  the 
statement  that  to  him  more  than  to  any  other  single  person 
are  due  the  best  elements  in  the  characters  of  those  among: 
whom  he  has  lived.  I  say  lived,  for  his  life  has  been  as  clear 
and  straightforward  as  his  sermons.  A  minister  told  me 
once  that  there  was  not  one  such  pastor  as  Dr.  Eaton  in  ten 
thousand.  Another  has  said  to  me  that  he  gained  a  clearer, 
better  system  of  theology  under  Dr.  Eaton's  p»reaching  than 
in  the  theological  seminary. 

WAE>rEE    B.    RiGGS. 

S>r5rEXA.  Asia  ^Mln'oe.  Feb.  15,  1S79. 
My  dear  Pastor. — I  see  your  resignation  in  the  ■•Evan- 
gelist,*'    It  gives  me  a  pang.      What  next?     Heaven? 

Yours  in  sorrow. 

IMaeia  a.  "West. 

We  copy  the  following  remarks  from  his  last  sermon,  as  pastor :  — 
.  .  .  This  morning  the  voice  of  years  comes  over  me,  now 
in  the  cheerful  tone  from  the  hTe  on  the  myrtle-branch  of 
hundreds  of  nuptial  scenes,  now  in  the  minor  key  from  the 
harp  hung  upon  the  willow  and  the  cypress  of  as  many  rites 
fimereal ;  — 

"  With  their  labors,  hopes,  and  fears. 
With  their  rapttu-es  and  their  tears. 
Gone  into  the  silent  spheres,  — 
Thirty  rears." 


238  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

Memories  and  emotions,  songs  and  sadness,  gathered  into 
one  tlirob,  give  depth  and  intensity  to  uiy  own  greeting  to 
you  as  adopted  from  the  text:  "But  ye,  beloved,  building 
up  yourselves  on  your  most  holy  faith,  praying  in  tlie  Holy 
Ghost,  keep  yourselves  in  the  love  of  God,  h)()king  for  the 
merc}'^  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  unto  eternal  life." 

.  .  .  INIy  dear  friends,  I  do  not  feel  that  I  stand  before  you 
to-day  greatly  condemned  in  my  own  conscience  for  idleness 
or  self-seeking  during  these  thirty  years.  "  I  have  coveted 
no  man's  silver."  But  alas!  had  I  taken  faster  hold  of  these 
heljis,  had  I  rested  more  implicitly  on  the  finished  work  of 
Christ,  "prayed  more  in  the  Holy  Ghost,"  breathed  out  more 
of  the  life  of  Christ  as  the  Spirit  was  ready  to  breathe  it  in, 
what  sins,  failures,  mistakes,  had  I  escaped !  what  power 
with  God  and  men  had  I  gained!  how  many  more  of  you 
had  I  won  as  stars  in  the  crown  of  the  Redeemer !  When 
the  sheeted  dead  shall  wake  and  come  to  judgment,  and  I 
stand  with  the  thousand  whom  I  have  committed  to  the 
earth,  how  terrible  may  then  appear  the  results  of  my  lack 
of  faith  and  "prayer  in  the  Holy  Ghost"!  Oh  that  I  had 
prayed  more  !  Nothing  less  than  the  merits  of  an  infinite 
Saviour  can  cover  me  in  that  day ;  and  how  should  I  thank 
God  that  I  have  such  an  Advocate !  .  .  . 

Brethren,  the  moment  of  so  much  anxiety,  the  moment  that 
severs  our  relatiiMi  as  pastor  and  peo})le,  has  now  come,  — 
come  as  one  of  the  sorest  trials  of  my  life,  yet  a  trial  invited 
by  myself  under  the  conviction  that  it  was  best  for  the  cause 
of  Christ,  whose  I  am,  and  whom  I  serve.  Amid  the  con- 
flicting emotions  of  this  moment  I  have  three  sources  of 
comfort :  — 

First,  we  part  in  peace.  Unbroken  harmony  has  marked 
our  protracted  intercourse.  For  your  sympathy  in  my  neces- 
sities, for  your  forbearance  toward  my  many  infirmities,  you 
have  my  sincerest  gratitude.  Go  on,  dear  brethren  and 
sisters,  cultivating  the  unity  of  the  Spirit  in  the  bond  of 
peace.  In  the  selection  and  election  of  a  new  pastor,  let  a 
prayerful,  conciliatory,  unselfish  temper  pervade  your  hearts. 
A  special  anointing  of  God's  grace  will  rest  upon  all  who 


LIGHT  AT  EVENING    TIME,  239 

in  simplicity  and  godly  sincerity  shall  now  repel  every 
temptation  to  division,  and  shall  set  themselves  in  earnest 
prayer  for  the  peace  of  Jerusalem.  "  They  shall  prosper  that 
love  thee;"  "'Peace  be  within  thy  walls,  and  prosperity 
within  thy  palaces ; "  "  For  my  brethren,  my  companions' 
sake,  I  will  now  say.  Peace  be  within  thee."  In  our  plead- 
ings one  for  another  and  for  this  church  we  shall  never  be 
^5eparated  at  the  tlirone  of  grace. 

My  second  consolatory  thought  is  this,  —  Jesus  is  the  living 
head  of  this  church.  He  planted  it  in  the  wilderness.  His 
grace  has  watered  it.  He  has  written  her  name  upon  the 
palms  of  both  His  hands.  Built  on  Christ,  cemented  by  His 
Spirit,  comforted  by  the  Father's  love,  "  What  shall  separate 
us  from  the  love  of  Christ !  shall  tribulation,  or  distress,  or 
persecution,  or  nakedness,  or  peril,  or  sword?  Na}^  in  all 
these  things  we  are  more  than  conquerors  through  Him  that 
loved  us  ;  for  I  am  persuaded  that  neither  death  nor  life,  nor 
angels,  nor  principalities,  nor  powers,  nor  things  present  nor 
things  to  come,  nor  height  nor  depth,  nor  any  other  creature, 
shall  be  able  to  separate  us  from  the  love  of  God  which  is  in 
Christ  Jesus  our  Lord." 

Finally,  I  am  consoled  by  the  hope  I  entertain  of  the 
young  people  of  this  congregation.  "  The  fathers,  where  are 
they,  and  the  prophets,  do  they  live  forever?  "  But  "instead 
of  the  fathers  are  the  children."  Dear  young  friends,  those 
gone  before  you  have  prayed,  sacrificed,  to  establish  this 
church.  We  must  deliver  it  over  into  your  hands :  assume 
the  responsibility ;  bear  forward  the  ark  of  God.  A  career 
of  "glory,  honor,  and  immortality,"  opens  before  you.  First, 
give  your  own  selves  to  the  Lord.  Consecrate  strength, 
enterprise,  life,  property,  to  building  up  this  Zion,  and  in 
your  turn  hand  it  over,  enlarged  and  beautified,  to  another 
generation.  "  And  may  the  God  of  peace,  which  brought 
again  from  the  dead  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  that  great  Shep- 
herd of  the  sheep,  through  the  blood  of  the  everlasting 
covenant,  make  you  perfect  in  every  good  work  to  do  His 
will,  working  in  you  that  which  is  well-pleasing  in  His  sight. 
Through  Jesus  Christ,  to  whom  be  glory  for  ever  and  ever. 
Amen." 


240  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

On  the  oOtli  of  ]March,  1879,  he  preached  a  sermon  to  the  aged  people 
of  his  congregation,  from  the  text,  "  Abide  with  us,  for  it  is  toward  even- 
ing, and  the  day  is  far  spent." 

.  .  .  An  abiding  Christ  will  make  old  age  leautiful.  The 
gospel  imparts  a  mellowed  effulgence  to  the  setting  sun. 
Many  of  us,  my  brethren,  have  passed  our  threescore  mile- 
stone. "  The  day  goeth  away."  "  The  shadows  are  length- 
ened out."  Our  sun  hastens  to  his  going-down.  It  is  at 
least  '•''toioard  evening."  But  let  us  not  fear  as  we  enter  into 
the  cloud.  A  transfigured  Saviour,  who  has  been  walking 
with  us  all  tlie  way,  will  yield  to  our  cry,  "  Abide  with  us ; 
for  it  is  toward  evening,  and  the  day  is  far  spent." 

An  abiding,  indwelling  Christ  is  a  defence  against  the 
infirmities  that  are  wont  to  sear  the  aged  heart,  against 
spleen,  gloomy  forebodings,  morbid  irritability,  fault-finding 
with  the  present,  one-sided  praise  of  the  past,  which  some- 
times comes  out  in  the  whine,  "The  former  days  were  better 
than  these."  The  soul  endued  with  the  spirit  of  Christ  will 
never  grow  old.  Its  wonted  fires  will  flash  np  out  of  its 
ashes.  Goodness,  like  Christ,  is  ever  young.  It  will  make 
age  the  complement  and  culminating  glory  of  life.  The 
keepers  of  this  house  of  clay  may  tremble,  the  strong  men 
bow  themselves,  and  those  that  look  out  of  the  windows  be 
darkened ;  but  if  within  there  be  the  Christlike  spirit,  that 
soul  is  clieerful,  ho})eful,  uj)  with  the  times,  never  too  wise  to 
learn,  alert  to  catch  the  morning  ray  of  improvement,  inven- 
tion, progress.  Such  a  mind  retains  a  love  of  Nature.  In 
the  very  winter  of  years  it  finds  the  rose  opening  with  as 
sweet  a  blush,  the  trees  waving  as  gracefully,  and  the  rainbow 
si)anning  the  cloud  with  the  same  promise  as  in  the  early 
spring-time  of  life.  It  also  cherishes  a  keen  sympathy  with 
the  young  in  all  tlieir  joys,  is  free  from  the  envious,  jaundiced 
eye.  If  frost  gather  upon  the  brow,  there  is  no  chill  at  the 
heart.  Sanctified  age  is  often  the  centre  of  attraction  in  the 
home  circle.  Nature  is  as  beautiful  in  her  October  hues  as  in 
her  May  blossoms,  and  the  last  lay  of  the  robin  is  as  sweet 
as  lier  spring  warble.  If  Christ  is  constrained  to  abide  with 
us,  the  soul   will  retain  the  bloom  which  will  emerge    into 


LIGHT  AT  EVENING    TIME.  241 

immortal  youtli.  Angels  are  represented  as  young.  There  is 
no  old  age  in  heaven. 

The  ahlding  ^presence  of  Christ  will  make  old  age  not  only 
beautiful  but  useful.  "  The  trees  of  the  Lord  are  full  of  sap." 
They  should  be  full  of  fruit.  For  this  purpose  they  were 
planted  in  the  vineyard.  "  They  shall  still  bring  forth  fruit 
in  old  age,"  fruit  all  the  more  mellow  for  the  many  suns  and 
the  late  gathering.  The  palm  lifts  its  feathery  coronal  and 
its  hanging  clusters  in  the  sandy  desert,  and  this  because  it 
sends  its  roots  down  to  the  nether  springs.  The  aged  believer 
can  say,  "All  my  springs  are  in  thee."  Hence,  amid  increas- 
ing infirmities,  by  prayer,  patience,  wise,  loving  words,  holy 
deeds,  he  brings  forth  the  fruits  of  the  Spirit.  The  aged 
believer  recommends  religion  to  the  j'oung,  and  transmits  it 
to  another  generation.  If  we  are  to  have  greenness  in  any 
period,  when  better  than  in  a  green  old  age,  evergreen  in 
winter  ? 

But  if  the  faculties  retain  their  freshness,  they  must  be 
kept  active,  and,  if  kept  active,  the  aged  man  must  feel  the 
presence  of  responsibility  ujy  to  his  strength.  To  retire  from 
responsibility  is  to  slip  the  band  of  motive,  and  the  wheels  of 
the  soul  will  stand  still.  How  many  a  merchant  has  given 
up  business,  and  retired  to  some  country-seat  on  the  Hudson 
only  to  drop  out  of  sight  as  a  dyspeptic,  03  nic,  misanthrope  ! 
The  burden  should  indeed  be  fitted  to  the  back.  Some  can 
carry  more  than  others.  But  to  make  tlje  most  of  the  vigor 
we  have,  we  must  use  it.  To  use  it,  we  must  have  an  object 
to  call  it  forth.  "  Otium  cum  dig^iltate^'"'  rest  and  dignity  in 
old  age,  is  a  heathen  adage.  An  abiding  Christ  will  teach 
the  aged  man,  by  cleanliness,  temperance,  by  sufficient  sleep, 
good  air,  warm  clothing,  to  dispute  inch  by  inch  every 
infirmity  of  body  and  mind,  and  fill  up  life  to  the  last  hour 
with  wholesome  precept,  good  example.  An  aged  disciple 
should  not  be  an  indolent  disciple,  a  garrulous  disciple,  a 
croaking  disciple,  a  smoking  disciple.  The  Bible  worthies 
—  Abraham,  Moses,  Paul  —  brought  forth  their  richest,  ripest 
fruit  in  old  age.  Usefulness  should  be  the  end  of  every 
period  of  life. 


242  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

The  abiding  presence  of  Christ  will  fill  up  the  nights  and 
days  of  the  aged  man  with  comfort.,  and  make  liis  last  days 
his  best.  His  presence  will  pour  light  upon  the  Bible,  upon 
Providence,  upon  promises,  upon  prophecies  of  the  future 
glory  of  the  church,  till,  if  God  so  favor,  he  may  go  up,  like 
EHjah,  in  a  chariot  of  light  and  glory. 

To  none  of  this  congregation  do  I  look  with  more  solicitude 
and  trembling  interest  than  to  my  elderly  parishioners,  who 
have  come  along  with  me  the  last  thirty  years,  and  have 
never  yet  constrained  the  risen  Saviour,  saying,  ''Abide  with 
us;  for  it  is  toward  evening,  and  the  day  is  far  spent." 

You  feel  to-day  the  force  of  habit  winch  years  of  world- 
liness  have  left  upon  you.  Too  long  have  you  said  to 
the  calls  of  the  Spirit,  "  Go  thy  way  for  this  time :  when  I 
have  a  more  convenient  season,  I  will  call  for  thee,"  Too 
long  have  you  grieved  the  Saviour,  who,  although  unseen,  has 
attended  you  all  your  way.  You  feel  that  the  world  is 
empty,  that  its  attractions  are  "paling  to  an  ash-colored 
spark."  Like  a  bird  in  a  vacuum,  you  pant  for  something 
better  to  satisfy  your  soul. 

I  pray  you,  dear  friends,  despair  not.  The  word  comes  to 
you,  "  To-day,  if  you  will  hear  His  voice,  harden  not 
your  hearts."  "  Let  the  wicked  forsake  his  way,  and  the 
unrighteous  man  his  thought,  and  let  him  turn  unto  the  Lord, 
who  will  have  mercy  upon  him,  and  to  our  God,  who  will 
abundantly  pardon."  Let  the  providences,  the  preservations, 
the  blessings,  of  your  past  life,  kindle  in  you  the  cheerful  flame 
of  gratitude.  Consider  how  short  your  time  is.  Now  con- 
strain tlie  willing  One,  who  has  so  long  knocked  at  the  door 
of  your  heart  with  the  words,  "  Abide  with  me ;  for  it  is 
toward  evening,  and  the  day  is  far  spent." 

"  Hast  thou  wasted  all  the  powers 
God  for  noble  uses  gave  ? 
Squandered  life's  most  golden  hours? 
Turn  thee,  brother ;  God  can  save. 

"  Is  a  mighty  famine  now 

In  thy  heart  and  in  thy  soul  ? 
Discontent  upon  thy  brow  ? 

Turn  thee ;  God  will  make  thee  whole. 


LIGHT  AT  EVENING    TIME.  243 

"  Fall  before  Him  on  the  ground, 
Pour  thy  sorrow  in  His  ear; 
Seek  Him  while  He  may  be  found ; 
Call  upon  Him  while  He's  near." 

I  see  before  me  a  large  number  in  the  morning  of  life. 
There  is  but  one  thi7i(/,  my  dear  young  friends.,  that  will  keep 
you  from  the  dimmed  eye,  the  trembling  hand,  the  feeble  step. 
Tliat  one  thing  is  death.  You  prefer  old  age.  Virtue,  self- 
control,  an  abiding  Christ,  alone  will  make  your  old  age 
beautiful,  useful,  happy. 

From  the  account,  in  the  Xew  York  "  Evangelist,"  of  the  ordination  and 
installation  of  Dr.  Eaton's  successor,  Rev.  Warren  H.  Landou,  Sept. -30, 
1880,  we  take  the  following  :  — 

..."  The  climax  of  interest  was  reached  when  Dr.  Eaton  entered  the 
pulpit  to  deliver  his  cliarge  to  the  people.  In  the  fulness  of  that  unself- 
ish love  of  Christ  and  His  cause  which  has  through  all  this  history 
re-emphasized  his  ministry  of  thirty  years,  and  with  his  own  deep  and 
fervent  unction,  amid  impressive  and  touching  silence,  he  began.  Mem- 
ories, tender  emotions,  were  awakened  in  all  hearts,  and  tears  came  to 
many  eyes  as  he  alluded  to  the  past.  I  cannot  forbear  to  repeat  some  of 
his  paragraphs :  — 

"  Sixty-three  years  have  fled  since  the  western  Presbyte- 
rian church  was  separated  from  the  mother-church  of  East 
Palmyra.  During  this  period  eight  pastors  have  been  in- 
stalled over  this  congregation.  Seven  of  these,  after  having 
'served  their  own  generation,  by  the  will  of  God  are  fallen 
on  sleep.'  Saving  one  here  and  another  there,  still  lingering 
like  autumnal  swallows,  the  ordaining  councils  and  ministers 
officiating  on  those  occasions  have  gone  on  before.  You 
must  go  from  the  walks  of  the  living  to  yonder  cemetery, 
the  ever-increasing  congregation  of  the  dead,  would  you 
meet  those  who  greeted  these  successive  pastors  at  their 
coming.  This  is  essentially  true  of  the  audience  who  wel- 
comed the  retirhig  and  only  surviving  pastor  thirty-two 
years  ago.  Dying  ministers  among  a  dying  people,  and  all 
hastening  to  their  last  account !  Jesus  elects,  endows, 
anoints,  sends,  his  ambassadors  to  their  appointed  fields.  He 
is  present  at  their  ordination.     The  wings  of  angels  rustle 


244  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

over  this  assembly.  And  have  not  '  the  spirits  of  just  men 
made  perfect,'  who  one  after  another  fullilled  their  course 
in  this  pulpit,  heard  beyond  the  stars  the  bells  that  call 
to-night  to  the  ordination  of  their  successor  into  a  field  once 
dearer  to  them  than  life  ?  Do  not  the  spirits  of  Townsend, 
Stockton,  Whelpley,  Shumway,  Fisher,  bend  in  listening  and 
joyful  conclave  as  this  beloved  people  receive  from  the  great 
Master  a  servant  of  God?  And  where  are  the  elders, 
deacons,  fathers,  mothers,  members  of  this  Israel,  once 
toilers  here,  now  translated?  Are  they  not  among  the 
unseen  agents  who  join  us  to-night  in  blessing  and  sealing 
this  union  of  pastor  and  people  ? 

"  I  have  recurred  to  the  church  of  the  past,  the  better  to 
refer  to  the  church  of  the  future.  To-day  you  turn  over  a 
new  leaf ;  you  rise  to  a  new  elevation. 

"  Tu  a  manner  fatherly  and  affectionate,  he  then  referred  to  the  relation 
of  the  pastor  to  the  homes  of  the  people,  to  the  orchestra,  the  Sabbath- 
school,  the  prayer-meeting,  and  showed  how  in  all  these  the  pastor  might 
receive  lielp,  as  also  by  the  prompt  and  faithful  attendance  of  the  people 
upon  the  services  of  the  sanctuary,  and  their  careful  hearing  and  doing 
of  the  Word,  repreaching  it  in  their  lives.  He  then  exhorts  them  to 
pray  for  their  pastor. 

"  Dear  brethren,  if  your  pastor  is  quickened  with  pente- 
costal  power  in  this  pulpit,  tliere  must  be  pentecostal  prayer 
for  him  in  the  church.  A  sermon  prayed  over  by  the  church, 
studied  by  the  pastor,  enriched  by  the  Spirit,  will  come 
freighted  with  comfort  to  the  weary,  conviction  to  the 
thoughtless,  pardon  to  the  penitent.  Power  from  the  engine 
in  the  recess  is  not  more  direct  upon  the  trip-hammer  in  the 
busy  sliop  than  is  spiritual  power  from  the  adjacent  prayer- 
rooiu  upon  this  pulpit.  What  gave  point,  edge,  victory,  to 
the  sword  of  Joshua  against  Amalek?  Was  it  not  the 
wonder-working  rod  held  high  by  the  three  suppliants  in  the 
mount  of  intercession  ?  Had  INIoses,  or  Aaron,  or  Ilur  been 
absent  from  that  prayer-meeting,  where  had  been  the  victory 
of  Joshua  over  the  enemies  of  God?" 


LIGHT  AT  EVENING    TIME.  245 

The  history  of  the  remaining  four  years  and  a  half  of  Dr.  Eaton's 
life,  the  relation  of  his  successor  to  him,  '■  as  a  son  with  a  father,"  of 
his  old  people,  as  loving  "  brethren  and  fathers,"  his  pleasant  supplemen- 
tary ministry  at  Marion,  N.Y.,  his  occasional  journeys  and  closing  labors, 
may  be  gleaned  from  the  following  letters  :  — 

Palmyra,  May  13,  1879. 
Dear  Brother  J.,  — .  .  .  My  resignation  has  brought  me 
no  relief  as  yet.  One  week  more  and  I  give  the  pulpit  up 
to  a  young  man  from  Union  Theological  Seminary,  New  York. 
He  comes  recommended  as  a  gem  of  a  mind  and  heart.  I  fray 
for  Mm  daily  and  hourly.  If  God  will  put  him  in  my  place, 
and  thus  the  transfer  be  made  without  a  jar,  I  shall  be 
devoutly  thankful  to  the  Great  Shepherd.  .  .  . 

Palmyra,  N.Y.,  July  28,  1879. 

Dear  Brother  Jacob,  —  Sixteen  days  ago  I  put  eight 
men,  good  and  true,  upon  my  house  to  make  war  upon  old 
shingles,  old  })laster,  and  the  debris  of  ages.  I  have  raised 
the  roof  over  the  whole.  I  have  smashed,  torn  up,  and 
rushed  away  a  continent  of  rubbish.  I  do  not  believe  you 
ever  worked  sixteen  days  as  hard,  got  as  tired  every  night, 
slept  as  well,  rose  as  fresh  for  the  fight  the  next  morning. 
"  Totus  in  rebus  "  has  been  my  motto.  "  Opus  fervet."  A 
new  story  has  risen  over  the  wigwam.  My  study  has  gone 
up  from  the  basement  to  the  third  story.  It  is  the  eyrie 
of  the  gray  mountain  eagle.  It  will  be  the  finest  room  in 
town  for  my  use.  The  first  ray  of  morning,  the  last  ray  of 
evening,  gild  it.  May  it  prove  the  prophet's  chamber, 
where  divine  light  and  power  come  down  ! 

Palmyra,  Nov.  14,  1879. 

Dear  Sister  R.,  —  Stern  duties  seem  to  folloAv  me,  and 
claim  my  time  and  strength.  I  had  no  sooner  gone  through 
with  the  turmoil  of  repairing  my  house  than  a  neighboring 
pastor  left  his  people,  and  I  was  called  to  supply  that  vacant 
pulpit,  —  a  kind  of  supplementary  minister  like  that  of  Dr. 
Bouton  of  your  place.  The  village  is  six  miles  from  my 
home. 


246  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

He  always  went  to  his  flock  at  INIavion  ■\vitli  a  glad  heart,  thankful 
that  ho  might  be  permitted  still  to  work  for  the  Master.  "  The  sense  of 
something  to  be  done  "  was  ever  to  him  "  the  most  invigorating  of  medi- 
cines." As  he  drove  away  from  the  door,  this  request  was  often  on  his 
lips,  "  Pray  for  me." 

Xov.  12,  1870. 

My  dear  Brother  Botsford,  —  The  tracts  you  sent 
me  seem  very  fit  and  timely.  I  am  trying  to  "  sow  the  seed 
by  the  side  of  all  waters."  I  am  encouraged  to  know  that 
your  heart  is  drawn  out  for  my  people  at  Marion.  Some 
improvement  is  seen  in  the  prayer-meeting.  I  lead  in  that 
and  in  the  teachers'  meeting.  The  passages  in  the  Uniform 
Lessons  are  very  rich  and  precious.  I  want  you  to  make 
your  old  pastor  a  special  subject  of  prayer,  that  his  ministry 
at  Marion  may  be  more  faithful  than  that  of  his  more  vigo- 
rous 3'ears ;  in  short,  that  the  thrums  may  be  of  stronger 
texture  than  tlie  previous  web.  May  God  help  us  io  believe 
His  simple  word.  Faith  honors  Him,  and  brings  the  bless- 
ing. How  a  revival  of  religion  in  Palm3'ra,  and  ]\larion,  and 
all  through  this  region,  would  glorify  Christ,  and  save  souls ! 
Pray  for  so  glorious  an  end. 

Palmyua,  ]\Iarch  8,  1880. 

Dear  J.,  —  I  have  just  heard  of  the  death  of  Rev.  Dr. 
Bush,  a  dear  brother  in  the  ministry.  He  died  instantly  after 
preaching.  This  vividly  brought  to  my  thoughts  the  moment 
of  my  own  death.  How  near  it  may  be  !  How  suddenly  it 
may  come  !  I  am  frightened  that  I  am  not  more  distressed. 
But  the  truth  is,  I  have  ever  liad  so  much  that  seemed  pres- 
ent duty,  that  I  have  not  had  time  or  interest  to  be  ever 
looking  out  for  the  arrows  of  the  relentless  archer.  Indeed, 
I  do  not  know  but  it  is  as  well  to  commit  the  whole  matter 
of  our  departure  to  Him  who  knows  the  end  from  the  begin- 
ning, and  be  found  working  instead  of  waiting.  I  have 
sometimes  comforting  assurance  that  Jesus  will  be  with  me 
in  the  dying-hour.  I  think  I  know  what  took  off  Brother 
Bush.  He  was  about  my  age.  Last  year  he  made  the  tour 
of  the  Orient.  It  excited,  exhausted  him,  and  the  lamp  went 
out  for  want  of  oil.     Men  at  his  aire  and  mine  had  better 


LIGHT  AT  EVENING   TIME.  247 

stay  at  home.  My  last  voyage  to  Europe  brought  me  down 
to  the  nadir,  and  when  I  found  I  coukl  not  meet  my  accus- 
tomed duties,  I  resigned,  for  I  woukl  not  hokl  a  place  I  could 
not  fill.  But  rest  and  the  out-door  work  of  repairing  my 
house  have  driven  the  hoojjs  anew.  Besides  doing  some 
work  in  my  old  parish,  I  have  kept  up  the  pulpit  of  a  neigh- 
boring church.  But  I  advise  you  not  to  sail  for  Egypt,  Pal- 
estine, or  even  England,  for  this  simple  reason,  you  are 
too  old. 

I  translate  your  silence  to  be  that  Sister  L.  is  about  the 
same.  We  pray  that  God  will  hold  her  up  in  her  protracted 
sufferings.  .  .  . 

Palmyra,  N.Y.,  Oct.  20,  1880. 

Dear  Sister  R.,  —  "Grandma  Webster"  went  home  at 
half-past  six  this  evening  as  gently  as  though  rocked  to  sleep 
by  the  angels.  She  was  in  her  eighty-eighth  year.  She  was 
in  perfect  health  until  within  a  few  hours  of  her  death.  She 
died  in  her  chair.  I  have  no  idea  she  knew  any  thing  about 
the  transition.  She  fell  asleep,  and  woke  up  in  heaven ;  or, 
as  her  little  hymn  has  it,  which  she  used  to  repeat  every 
night  after  "  Our  Father,"  — 

"If  I  should  die  before  I loake, 
I  pray  the  Lord  my  soul  to  take ; 
And  this  I  ask  for  Jesus'  sake." 

The  night  but  one  before  her  death,  A.  thought  she  heard 
her  speak,  and,  on  going  to  her  bed,  asked  her  if  she  had 
been  dreaming.  "Oh,  no!"  she  replied,  "but  I  was  trying 
to  tell  them  '■Jesus  loves  you.''  " 

Her  mind  was  bright,  and  wonderfully  interested  in  the 
Bible  and  awake  to  the  work  of  God  in  the  missionary  field. 
Her  faith  and  love  in  her  last  days  were  aflame.  She  read 
every  word  in  regard  to  the  meeting  of  the  American  Board 
at  Lowell,  Mass.  She  would  call  Mrs.  Eaton  to  join  with  her 
in  admiring  some  of  the  promises  of  Isaiah,  and  other  scrip- 
tures. .  .  . 

Palmyra,  Jan.  6,  1881. 

My  dear  H.,  —  ...  In  the  State  of  New  Hampshire,  in 
which   I  was  born,  there  was   genuine   heart   in   the  word 


248  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

"  Happy  New  Year  "  as  it  rang  out  on  tlie  chill  air  before  the 
sun  lifted  the  night-cap  off  Kearsarge.  The  school  did  not 
suspend;  but  there  was  more  of  sliding  down  hill,  and  a 
brisker  game  at  snow-ball.  In  the  ashes  of  those  years 
"sleep  their  wonted  fires."  Our  New- Year's  Day  was  greatly 
enlivened  by  hearing  from  you.  Though  I  can  say  with 
Moses,  "My  eye  is  not  dimmed,  or  my  natural  force 
abated,"  yet  the  elegant  magnifying  glass  you  sent  me  is  a 
very  timely  help.  Minutiae,  points  in  Greek  and  Hebrew, 
small  notes  in  my  Bagster,  are  made  large  and  plain.  The 
glass  helps  me  to  read  the  Bible.  .  .  . 

Our  prayer  is,  as  was  the  prayer  of  your  devoted  grand- 
mother, that  your  future  may  be  on  the  upward  grade  of  a 
true  Christian  life,  culminating  in  eternal  blessedness. 

Your  affectionate  father,  H.  E. 

Feb.  15,  1881. 

My  dear  Sister  R.,  —  How  stands  the  mercury  at  Con- 
cord? I  have  never  experienced  such  a  winter  in  New  York, 
yet  I  have  ministered  to  my  little  flock,  six  miles  away, 
every  Sabbath  ;  I  confess  not  without  some  exposure  in  going 
and  coming.  .  .  .  But  I  desire  to  assure  you  of  the  great 
mercy  of  God.  I  know  not  a  jar  between  my  old  people  and 
their  old  or  young  minister.  The  Lord's  work  is  prospering. 
My  successor  is  a  refined,  educated  Christian  gentleman,  a 
faithful  pastor,  and  an  able  preacher.  In  short,  the  evening 
of  life  is  far  more  serene  than  I  had  expected  it  to  be.  My 
chief  anxiety  is  to  please  the  blessed  God  by  growing  more 
and  more  into  the  image  of  Christ,  and  by  improving  the 
opi)ortunities  of  doing  good  to  others.  I  trust  I  have  for- 
giveness for  the  past,  and  hope  for  time  to  come.  Through 
faith  in  Jesus  the  future  looms  up  gloriously.  If  a  little 
foretaste  of  Christ's  presence  here  is  so  blessed,  what  fruition 
to  be  forever  with  the  Lord !  If  our  steps  are  less  firm,  let 
us  take  hold  of  that  strong  and  loving  arm  extended  for  our 
support.  .  .  . 


LIGHT  AT  EVENING    TIME.  249 

To  a  daughter  who  was  teaching :  — 

...  I  wish  I  could  look  in  through  some  loophole  upon 
your  school  as  you  teach.  A  wakeful,  self-composed,  poised 
serenity,  like  that  of  the  eagle,  will  help  you.  Classify  as 
closely  as  possible.  Make  difficult  points  clear.  All  minds 
are  interested  in  neAV  light.  Don't  be  too  fast  in  making 
laws.  ...  I  have  generally  found  that  hard  things  come 
easiest  in  the  morning,  when  I  am  rested.  Don't  do  your 
severe  studying  when  the  mind  is  jaded.  Get  as  much  sleep 
as  you  need.  Eat  good,  wholesome  food.  Take  counsel 
daily  of  God's  word,  and  seek  direction  and  strength  from 
the  Master  you  serve,  and  your  task  will  grow  lighter,  and 
you  will  do  good  and  get  good  daily. 

YouPv  Affectionate  Father. 

June  17,  1881. 

Deae  Brother  L., —  ...  I  am  happy  in  the  review  of 

the  past.     My  mistakes  and  sins  have  been  many  and  great. 

But  /  have  a  great  Saviour.     "If  any  man  sin,  we  have  an 

advocate  with  the  Father,  Jesus  Christ,  the  righteous."     I 

look  forward  with  joy.     I  have  the  promise  that  Jesus  will 

guide  me  with  His  eye,  that  He  will  defend  me  with  His  arm, 

comfort  me  Avith  His  presence,  and   that,  when  this  short 

life  is  ended,  the  dear  Master  stands  ready  to  welcome  me 

above.  .  .  . 

Eaton  Grange,  Warner,  N.H.,  Aug.  20,  1881. 

Dear  H.,  —  We  started  July  18  with  Mr.  Landon.  The 
next  morning  we  awoke  among  the  eighteen  hundred  islands 
of  lake  and  river.  Down  we  shot,  two  hundred  and  thirty- 
four  feet,  through  the  Rapids,  the  old  Indian  at  the  helm.  We 
did  Montreal,  Quebec,  then  biick  to  St.  Albans,^  Sheldon,  and 

^  In  a  letter  written  at  another  time,  he  alludes  to  a  visit  at  St.  Albans. 
..."  I  found  the  old  shop  where  I  learned  niy  trade.  I  craved  the  privilege, 
of  an  Irishwoman  now  residing  there,  to  look  around  the  old  walls  and  win- 
dows. While  I  was  noticing  the  marks  of  my  hammer  and  file,  the  woman 
came  up  to  me  with  great  earnestness,  and  said,  '  In  troth,  sir,  and  what 
would  ye  be  after  finding  here  ?  '  I  answered,  '  Should  you  go  back  to  Ire- 
land, where  you  were  born,  would  you  not  be  after  finding  something  ?  '  The 
Irish  heart  began  to  swell.  The  tears  ran  down  her  cheeks.  'Indade,  sir, 
I  would  !     Look  as  much  as  you  plase.' " 


260  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

over  to  Grand  Isle.  "SVe  liad  a  splendid  visit  at  Mrs.  Landon's 
mother's ;  then  to  Burlington,  White  Iliver  Junction,  Clare- 
mont,  here.  .  .  .  Your  mother  is  sewing,  and  I  am  writing  at 
a  window  where  Kearsarge  never  appeared  in  such  dignity 
and  repose,  so  robed  in  the  dark  blue,  the  variegated  green. 
In  short,  the  old  mountain  has  had  his  face  washed,  and  he 
has  come  out  in  his  gala  dress. 

A  few  days  ago,  Lucien  took  me  around  a  by-path  which 
I  had  never  threaded.  We  came  at  length  to  an  obscure  spot 
about  a  mile  and  a  quarter  from  the  Grange.  What  was  my 
surprise  when  informed  that  the  veritable  schoolhouse  built 
by  my  father  and  grandfather,  and  to  which  I  was  introduced 
by  my  sister,  at  four  years  of  age,  was  standing  a  few  rods 
away !  More  than  fifty  years  before  it  had  been  taken  down, 
and  removed  to  another  neighborhood.  As  I  caught  the  first 
view,  the  image  and  the  reality  clasped  each  other.  The 
humble  old  house  met  the  bill.  The  roof,  the  windows,  the 
siding,  were  the  same.  I  bade  farewell  to  it  fifty-six  years 
ago.  The  old  door  retained  the  heavy  iron  handle.  It 
refused  me  admission ;  but  the  window  welcomed  me  to  the 
old  floor  where  my  little  feet  first  stood  as  I  recited  my 
A  B  C.  As  I  "faced  the  mark"  on  which  the  spelling- 
classes  were  arranged,  I  could  remember  my  fellows,  and 
even  some  of  the  words  by  which  I  was  handed  up  or  down. 
The  desk  of  the  teacher  was  in  its  place  ;  but  the  ferule  and 
the  birch  were  not  there.  Teachers,  comrades,  schoolbooks, 
scenes  grave  and  gay,  went  by  me  as  in  a  diorama.  Did  the 
Muses  favor,  I  would  mount  my  Pegasus  and  sing  the  honors 
of  the  old  schoolhouse  on  the  ledge.  .  .  . 

A  hard  worker  but  no  poeta. 

Your  affectionate  father, 

H.  Eaton. 

To  General  John  Eaton.  Palmyra,  N.Y.,  Sept.  21,  1881. 

My  dear  Nephew,  —  The  bottled  oxygen  is  still  uncorked. 
I  am  surprised  at  the  difference  in  strength,  mind,  heart, 
between  the  weeks  before  and  after  I  went  to  the  Grange  at 
New  Hampshire.     I  have  found  some  rest  at  Saratoga.     But 


LIGHT  AT  EVENING    TIME.  251 

tlie  mountain  air  of  mj  own  native  hills  is  a  more  healthful 
tonic  than  the  mineral  waters  of  Saratoga,  and  fishing  for 
trout  in  Stevens  Brook,  a  fitter  recreation  than  watching  the 
fashions  and  follies  of  a  modern  watering-place.  A  return  to 
the  old  natal  rock  is  even  better  than  a  pilgrimage  to  Mecca. 
You  thank  us  for  going.  What,  then,  shall  be  said  to  the 
Grangers  for  their  entertainment?  Sentiments  of  poetry  and 
piety  went  deeper  and  deeper  into  my  sj^irit  every  day.  As 
I  wandered  and  mused  amid  the  familiar  objects  of  the  old 
landscape,  as  I  looked  to  "the  mountain  "  on  one  side  and 
"  The  Minks "  on  the  other,  the  scenes  of  my  youth  went 
vividly  by,  picturing  the  family,  the  school,  dear  kindred, 
and  associates.  Electrifying  the  nerves  with  these  remote 
memories  imparted  animation,  circulation,  to  both  body  and 
mind. 

While  I  thus  write,  my  heart  is  oppressed.  The  flag  hangs 
languidly  at  half-mast.  The  sun  burns  on  from  day  to  day. 
The  ground  is  chapped.  Then  the  gloom  that  comes  from 
death  !  Oh,  how  funereal !  The  spirits  sink.  "  But  why  art 
thou  cast  down,  oh,  my  soul?  Hope  thou  in  God."  God  is 
the  Sabbath  and  rest  of  the  soul.  If  our  dear  President 
Garfield  has  been  called  away,  God  has  done  it.  And,  if  He 
has  done  it,  I  doubt  not,  all  things  considered,  it  is  best.  So, 
if  our  prayers  have  not  been  answered  directly,  we  have  the 
substance  sought  in  our  jjrayers,  something  Infinite  Wisdom 
saw  was  better.  Let  us  then  trust  for  the  better  good  though 
we  cannot  see  it  as  yet.  .  .  . 

The  object  you  would  promote,  the  education  of  the  entire 
population  of  our  country,  is  grand  in  its  intellectual  and 
moral  aspects.  Your  arguments  can  but  commend  them- 
selves to  the  patriot,  philanthropist.  Christian. 

John,  I  feel  an  intense  desire  that  all  your  dear  family,  — 
I  mean  your  brothers  and  sisters  and  their  families  —  in  all 
their  activity  and  influence,  should  be  found  clear  over  on 
the  side  of  evangelical  religion ;  and  this  for  their  own  good 
and  the  good  of  the  world.  I  desire  that  they  may  come 
into  sympathy  with  Christ  and  that  cause  which  is  to  triumph 
over  all  the  earth.     Every  soul  united  to  Christ  has  victory 


252  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

and  eternal  life  for  its  portion.  Every  soul  arrayed  against 
Christ  will  meet  a  terrible  overthrow.  Let  ns  pray  mightily 
that  none  of  our  dear  kindred  may  be  found  fighting  against 
God.  Your  gray  uncle, 

Horace. 

Palmyra,  X.Y.,  Xov.  8,  1881. 

My  dear  Sister  Rtjth,  —  I  cannot  realize  that  I  am 
older  than  King  David  when  he  died,  and  that  you  and  your 
three  old  brothers  are  the  last  remnants  of  a  numerous 
family. 

But,  dear  R.,  I  take  no  stock  in  that  moping  melancholy 
that  bows  down  the  head  like  a  bulrush.  By  nature  I  was 
a  stubborn,  gnarly  piece.  My  life  has  been  marred  by  much 
insensibility  and  ingratitude.  But  I  regard  my  sins  as  no 
barrier  to  my  hope.  I  have  accepted  Christ  as  my  substitute. 
My  sins  are  imputed  to  Ilim,  and  His  righteousness  is 
imputed  to  me.  At  the  sight  of  the  cross  the  burden  rolls 
off,  and  is  seen  no  more.  "As  far  as  the  east  is  from  the 
west,  so  far  hath  He  removed  our  trangressions  from  us.'' 
How  light  the  soul  when  Jesus  says,  "  Thy  sins  are  forgiven 
thee"!  Now  as  the  sear  leaf  trembles  on  the  stem,  about 
ready  to  fall,  no  gloom,  no  night,  shuts  in  around  me,  but 
I  see  the  streaks  of  the  morning,  the  morning  of  eternity. 
Consider,  dear  sister,  the  destiny  of  the  redeemed  soul. 
The  bliss  is  unending.  Beautiful  is  one  day  of  this  Indian 
summer;  but  it  will  soon  be  over.  But  there  is  no  wintry 
sky,  no  pain,  there  are  no  infirmities  of  age,  in  the  celestial 
future.  .  .  . 

To  General  J.  E.  Dec.  31,  1881. 

My  dear  Nephew,  —  I  have  a  few  moments  before  1881 
goes  out.  It  has  been,  on  the  whole,  a  happy  and  profitable 
twelve  months.  Save  the  Sabbaths  I  Avas  absent  in  the 
summer,  I  have  preached  constantly  to  my  little  church  at 
Marion.  I  suppose  it  the  weakness  of  old  men  to  think  they 
are  strong ;  but  the  rest  and  recreation  of  my  sojourn  at  the 
Grange  in  New  Hampshire  the  past  summer  has  seemed  to 


LIGHT  AT  EVENING    TIME.  253 

turn  back  the  shadow  on  the  sun-dial  ten  degrees.  Both  my 
wife  and  myself  have  been  more  than  usually  vigorous  since 
our  visit  there.  .  .  . 

Palmyra,  N.Y.,  April  1,  1882. 

Dear  Brother  Lucien,  —  Spring  is  escaping  from  the 
lion-paw  of  March.  ...  I  have  never  given  much  anxiety 
about  my  temporal  matters,  and  am  surprised  at  the  kind 
providence  of  God  that  provides  thus  for  all  ni}^  wants.  "  I 
dwell  among  mine  own  people."  Our  fellowship  is  very 
cordial.  The  young  minister  is  all  that  I  could  ask,  —  an 
able,  studious,  and  godly  man.  I  am  rejoiced  to  have  my 
people  fall  into  so  good  hands.  My  health  is  unbroken.  I 
can  do  a  good  amount  of  study,  preaching,  and  pastoral 
labor.  I  don't  think  I  can  wrestle  with  severe  problems 
as  I  could  twenty  years  ago,  but  I  still  love  to  work. 
You  and  I  have  seen  great  things  accomplished.  Humanity 
is  being  uplifted.  "  There's  a  good  time  coming."  The 
next  battle  is  to  be  with  the  hydra-headed  foe,  alcohol. 
I  find  more  difficulty  in  fetching  men  up  to  a  bold  and 
decided  stand  against  cider  and  beer  than  any  other  stimu- 
lating liquors.  I  know  not  how  to  take  neutral  ground. 
The  church  is  still  militant,  and  ministers  must  lead  the  van. 
I  enjoy  great  peace  in  meditating  on  the  wonderful  mercy  of 
God  in  Christ.  But  I  mourn  over  my  insensibility  to  such 
tenderness.  ... 

To  his  sick  and  aged  sister  : —  Palmyra,  July  31,  1882. 

Dear  Sister  L.,  —  I  grieve  that  I  hear  from  you  no 
more.  Has  that  "  right  hand  forgot  its  cunning  "  ?  Those 
arms  that  bore  me  so  lovingly  in  infancy,  do  they  droop? 
Are  those  that  look  out  of  the  windows  darkened?  Well, 
my  dear  sister,  that  is  fulfilling  the  description  Solomon 
gives  of  the  winter  of  life.  But  beyond  the  winter  there  is 
a  perpetual  spring.  That  body  which  is  "to  be  fashioned 
after  Christ's  own  glorious  body  "  will  never  grow  old,  lose 
its  vigor,  or  hang  heavy  upon  the  aspirations  of  the  soul. 
No,  that  glorified  body  will  be  like  wings  to  the  sanctified 


254  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

spirit.  The  soul,  cleansed  from  all  the  paralysis  of  sin,  will 
find  perfect  fruition  when  united  again  with  the  body  with 
which  it  sojourned  on  earth.  I  think  a  great  deal  of  the 
redemption  of  the  body.     Your  loving  brother, 

Horace. 

We  find  in  one  of  his  sermons  some  thoughts  on  the  theme  just 
referred  to. 

.  .  .  This  feature  of  the  gospel,  the  redemption  of  the  body, 
is  full  of  consolation.  How  often  can  we  say,  "  The  spirit 
is  willing,  but  the  flesh  is  weak  "  !  But,  when  these  bodies 
'•  are  fashioned  and  made  like  unto  His  glorious  bod}^" 
these  leaden  clogs  Avill  be  changed  to  wings.  AVe  shall  think 
without  exhaustion,  and  worship  without  fatigue. 

Our  subject  teaches  the  value  and  dignity  of  the  body. 
It  is  more  than  the  house  we  live  in,  more  than  the  shell  of 
the  flown  bird.  Christ  watches  the  garnered  dust.  The 
chemistry  of  the  grave  shall  bleach  it.  The  resurrection 
morn  shall  ini])ress  upon  it  the  dignity  and  loveliness  of 
Christ's  glorified  body. 

Between  the  body  and  the  soul  there  is  an  eternal  wed- 
lock. Both  bear  the  impress  of  Christ ;  one  of  His  Spirit,  the 
other  of  His  visible  form.  Our  bodies  are  a  part  of  us,  an 
immortal  part.  Our  bodies  and  souls  Avill  be  united  after 
the  resurrection  at  the  last  day.  They  had  been  close  friends 
from  birth  till  death.  It  was  hard  parting.  The  reign  of 
death  over,  the  disembodied  spirit  will  return  from  heaven 
to  earth  with  Christ,  for  it  is  said,  "He  shall  come  Avith  all 
His  saints  with  Him."  The  body  shall  be  raised,  changed, 
and  fitted  for  the  indwelling  of  the  sanctified  spirit,  and  both 
shall  have  a  meetness  to  be  "forever  with  the  Lord." 

Our  subject  suggests  a  recipe  for  unfadimj  beauty.  The 
beautiful  and  Christ-like  spirit  will  surely  be  clothed  with 
the  beautiful  and  Christ-lilve  exterior.  Would  you  be  beau- 
tiful to  all  eternity?  Accept  Christ,  breathe  the  spirit  of 
Christ,  and  you  shall  appear  in  the  image  of  Christ.  .  .  . 
How  terrible  that  the  body  which  has  ministered  to  sin 
should  minister  to  eternal  deformity  and  misery  !  that  the 


LIGHT  AT  EVENING    TIME.  255 

haggard   features   of   unholy  passion   should   be    dehneated 
upon  the  body  at  the  resurrection  of  the  dead ! 

Palmyra,  July  31,  1882. 

Dear  Brother  Jacob,  — It  is  not  a  little  gratifying  to 
me  that  my  old  people  are  agreed  in  wishing  me  to  preach 
for  them  while  the  young  pastor  retires  for  four  weeks  to 
the  shadow  of  the  Green  Mountains.  I  would  that  this  sup- 
plementary ministry  might  be  more  fruitful  than  any  of  the 
previous  thirty  years  during  which  I  have  served  them.  I 
have  many  hundreds  of  sermons  which  I  wrote  with  care ; 
but  I  am  estranged  from  my  older  intellectual  children  and 
take  to  the  Benjamins  of  my  threescore  years  and  ten.  I 
love  to  make  a  new  sermon.  The  young  minister  and  wife 
left  this  morning.  We  are  very  happy  in  the  new  pastor. 
He  has  a  clear  head,  is  simple  and  Christ-like  in  purpose, 
ingenious  in  reaching  the  young.  God  sets  His  seal  to  His 
labors.  I  could  not  see  my  old  people  in  the  hands  of  a 
loose  and  self-seeking  pastor. 

In  one  sense  I  have  "  set  my  house  in  order."  I  have  lev- 
eled and  swarded  my  grounds,  completed  my  walks,  repaired 
and  enlarged  my  house,  and  am  satisfied  all  things  are  in  good 
shape.  Should  I  be  taken  from  the  world,  my  family  would 
have  a  home.  Now  I  wish  to  cultivate  that  state  of  mind 
which  will  enable  me  to  pass  without  disquiet  to  the  employ- 
ments and  enjoyments  of  the  better  world.  ... 

Eaton  Grange,  N.H.,  September,  1882. 
Dear  L.,  —  Last  Sabbath  it  was  thought  too  moist  for 
prudent  people  to  venture  to  the  house  of  God.  Your  mother 
thought  best  to  make  the  attempt.  The  result  was  most 
pleasant  and  profitable.  The  rain  soon  ceased.  We  returned 
happy  and  refreshed  both  by  nature  and  the  word  and  wor- 
ship of  God.  ...  A  solemn  and  strange  coincidence  occurred 
last  Friday.  A  Miss  P.  was  to  be  buried  at  Warner,  aged 
seventy-one.  I  was  called  to  officiate  at  the  funeral.  The 
house  was  where  mother,  brother  F.,  and  myself  lived  when 
I  was  seven  years  old.     This  woman  was  a  child  with  me  in 


256  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

the  same  house.  I  h:ul  not  seen  her  since  we  used  to  play 
too-ether.  How  little  we  know  of  the  future  !  How  little  I 
thought  I  should  bury  her !  We  had  the  most  gorgeous  sun- 
set last  Sabbath  evening  I  ever  beheld.  There  were  banks 
of  clouds  of  different  density  reaching  around  the  western 
horizon.  Hence  all  the  lines  of  the  rainbow  came  out  in 
splendid  brilliancy.  At  the  same  time  Stevens  Brook  and 
tributary  rills  down  the  mountain  made  music  in  the  distance. 
While  my  eye  and  ear  were  thus  addressed,  my  memory  was 
recalling  the  Sabbath  evenings  of  other  years  amid  these 
same  objects  of  light  and  sound.  Life  is  a  transient  scene. 
Great-grandparents,  grandparents,  parents,  and  nine  of  my 
mother's  children  have  passed  away  to  the  land  of  silence. 
Three  only  are  left. 

Next  Sabbath  I  am  to  preach  a  dedication  sermon  in  Mr. 
Cressey's  old  church  in  Bradford.  Last  summer  he  was  on 
from  Newark,  N.Y.,  to  see  them.  He  told  them  he  would 
give  them  one  dollar  for  every  ten  they  would  raise  for  church 
purposes,-  —  ten  dollars  for  every  hundred.  This  timely  help 
has  encouraged  and  stimulated  them.  The  result  is  a  good 
young  minister,  and  a  church  edifice  remodeled  and  beauti- 
fied. What  an  example  for  the  wealthy  emigrant  sons  of 
New  Hampshire !  I  grieve  over  the  death  of  D.  S.  A.  Have 
not  decided  when  to  return.  Hope  you  are  well,  happy,  and 
useful.  Your  Father. 

Eaton  CxRAnge,  Warner,  N.H.,  Oct.  10,  1882. 
Dear  Brother  L.,  —  My  wife  and  myself  are  just  back 
from  the  meeting  of  the  American  Board  in  Portland,  Me., 
—  the  great  convocation  of  the  American  Israel.  Six  thou- 
sand of  God's  people  came  together  to  consider  the  last  com- 
mand, "  Go  ye  into  all  the  world,"  etc.  Like  those  on  the 
mount  of  transfiguration,  we  could  say,  "It  is  good  to  be 
liere."  Rays  from  tlie  glory  to  be  revealed  slione  upon  us. 
I  would  that  the  Saviour  might  attend  us  doAvn  the  mount, 
and  grant  the  power  of  healing  to  His  servants  working  at 
the  foot  of  the  mount.  ...  A  true  theology,  self-denial,  and 
missionary  enterprise  can  be  sustained  only  by  the  prevalent 


LIGHT  AT  EVENING    TIME.  257 

influences  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  I  fear  that  decay  from  those 
vivid  impressions  of  sin,  tlie  holiness  of  God,  eternity,  and 
the  necessity  of  Christ's  death  and  intercessions,  is  stealing 
over  the  hearts  of  the  ministry  and  the  church.  We  need 
the  return  of  such  a  year  of  the  right  hand  of  the  Most  High 
as  was  enjoyed  in  1858.  The  revival  of  pure  and  undefiled 
religion  gives  strength  and  substance  to  all  reforms  in  the 
State  as  well  as  the  Cliurch.  Praying  men,  like  Daniel,  are 
the  unknown,  unseen  pillars  of  the  State.  Tliey  are  in  alli- 
ance with  God.  Our  strength  for  every  good  work  is  in 
keeping  near  to  God. 

I  have  no  time  to  tell  you  of  Portland,  —  the  birthplace  of 
Longfellow,  the  scene  of  the  blessed  Payson's  labors.  Not  a 
grog-shop,  not  a  drunken  man,  marred  our  sight ! 

You  remember  our  dear  old  mountain,  Kearsarge.  The 
frost-pencil  has  touched  it  with  colors  vivid  and  varied.  A 
gorgeous  robe  has  been  laid  on  the  sides  and  summit.  But 
the  hues  are  those  of  death. 

Then  the  comet !  I  have  never  seen  the  like.  Is  it  the 
day  of  judgment  with  some  burning  world,  or  is  it  the  fusing, 
nebulous  matter  out  of  which  another  world  is  to  be  formed  ? 
It  is  a  bold  stranger  in  our  sky,  "  the  work  of  God's  fin- 
gers." .  .  . 

New  York  City,  Feb.  16,  18S3. 

Dear  Brother  J.,  — .  .  .  A  young  man,  T.  G.  Strong, 
Esq.,  a  child  in  Palmyra,  now  a  prominent  lawyer  in  New 
York,  invited  j\Irs.  Eaton  and  myself  to  visit  him,  and  sent 
the  spelter  to  defray  expenses.  We  greatly  enjoy  the  stay 
here.  I  find  my  old  friends  are  nearly  all  gone.  I  am  among 
a  new  generation.  May  we  "serve  our  own  generation  by 
the  will  of  God,"  and  so  "fall  on  sleep." 

We  shall  return  by  the  way  of  Washington  and  Frederick, 
Md.  .  .  . 

One  morning  during  this  visit  at  New  York,  while  conducting  family 
worship,  lie  gav-^e  a  niinute  account  of  the  conversion  of  Judge  Theron  R. 
Strong,  the  father  of  his  host.  These,  in  brief,  were  the  facts :  Rev. 
A.  M.  Stowe,  under  the  auspices  of  the  American  Tract  Society,  had 
presented  to  the  church  in  Palmyra  a  plea  for  colportage  in  the  destitute 


258  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

portions  of  our  own  country.  Judge  Strong,  Avith  two  others,  assumed 
the  salary  of  a  colporteur.  Several  months  after,  Judge  Strong  sought 
an  interview  with  his  pastor  in  the  ofRce  of  the  former.  He  said  to 
him,  "  I  find  myself  in  a  singular  position.  I  have  been  regularly 
receiving  for  some  time,  warm-hearted  letters  from  the  colporteur  I  am 
assisting  to  support.  He  speaks  of  souls  brought  to  Christ  through  his 
labors.  He  never  dreams  that  I  have  not  a  responsive  sympathj-  in  the 
spiritual  part  of  his  work.  But  I  am  not  a  Christian.  What  must  I  do 
to  he  sarcd?"  The  two  kneeled  side  by  side.  The  judge  followed  the 
pastor  in  a  sincere,  tender,  and  earnest  prayer.  An  extensive  revival 
of  religion  followed  the  conversion  of  Judge  Strong.  Outsiders  said, 
"If  Theron  R.  Strong  thinks  he  has  become  a  Christian,  there's  no  sham 
about  it.  It  is  real."  Many  came  to  the  meetings  that  they  might 
listen  to  prayer  and  testimony  from  his  lips. 

June  4,  1883. 

Dear  Brother  J.,  —  Tlie  rain,  "tlie  great  rain  of  His 
strength,"  is  over  and  gone.  We  rejoice  in  the  clear  shining 
of  the  sun.  IIoav  briglit  the  face  of  Nature  after  the  ])aptism  I 
A  choir  of  robins,  orioles,  and  bobolinks  fill  the  air  Avith  their 
songs.     This  leafy  June  is  the  heyday  of  the  year,  .  .  . 

We  have  just  liad  a  visit  from  Mr.  and  I\Irs.  Grifiith,  the 
friends  with  Avhom  I  traveled  in  1874.  Last  October  they 
set  out  again  from  London,  this  time  for  the  circuit  of  the 
world.  At  New  Zealand  they  met  two  sons,  one  a  farmer, 
the  other  a  Wesleyan  minister.  The  congregation  over 
which  their  son  presided  were  about  to  build  a  house  of 
worship.  The  architect  presented  Mrs.  Griffith  with  a  silver 
trowel,  and  she  had  the  honor  of  laying  the  corner-stone  of 
her  son's  church.  The  four  days  they  spent  Avith  us  Avere  all 
too  short  for  old  memories.  My  Avife  declares  she  has  seldom 
met  such  splendid  conversationalists,  —  their  persons  attrac- 
tive, their  minds  like  thousand-sided  brilliants,  their  hearts 
Avarm  and  pure.  Visits  of  such  English  friends  would  bind 
the  tAvo  countries  in  golden  chains.  .  .  . 

The  first  sentence  of  the  next  letter  refers  to  the  retui-n  of  his  absent 
children. 


LIGHT  AT  EVENING   TIME.  259 

Palmyra,  June  15,  1883. 

My  deak  Br.OTHER  Jacob,  —  Our  tabernacle  is  just  full 
of  light.  "  Our  mouth  is  filled  with  singing  and  our  tongue 
with  laughter."  .  .  . 

I  cannot  think  of  you  as  old.  Some  men  never  grow  old. 
If  frost  is  upon  the  head,  there  is  no  chill  at  the  heart.  But 
I  find  I  am  no  longer  young.  ...  I  was  sorry  to  hear  that 
your  pastor  was  taken  from  you  by  death.  I  was  much 
interested  in  his  sermon  and  kindly  spirit.  He  was  near  to 
your  home,  near  to  your  heart.  These  Christian  associations 
will  be  renewed  in  heaven.  "Blessed  are  the  dead  which 
die  in  the  Lord  from  henceforth,  for  they  rest  from  their 
labors  and  their  works  do  follow  them  " ;  from  "  liencefortli^'' 
—  from  the  time  of  the  soul's  departure  from  the  body. 
There  is  no  intermediate  purgatory,  no  sleeping  till  the  resur- 
rection. The  holy  dead  go  at  once  to  heaven.  "  Tlih  day 
shalt  thou  be  with  me  in  paradise."  In  the  last  chapter  of 
Revelation  we  learn  where  this  paradise  is.  It  is  \yhere 
"the  tree  of  life"  is,  and  that  is  in  the  very  "midst  of  the 
street  of  it  ";  it  is  where  "the  throne  of  God  and  the  Lamb  " 
are.  Stephen  "  saw  heaven  opened  and  the  Son  of  man 
standing  at  the  right  hand  of  God.  And  he  cried.  Lord 
Jesus,  receive  my  spirit."  The  whole  church  is  represented 
either  in  heaven  or  on  earth.  "  Of  whom  the  whole  family 
in  heaven  and  earth  is  named."  Says  Paul,  "We  know  that 
if  our  earthly  house  of  this  tabernacle  were  dissolved,  we 
have  a  building  of  God,  an  house  not  made  with  hands, 
eternal  in  the  heavens."  "I  am  in  a  strait  betwixt  two, 
having  a  desire  to  depart  and  to  be  with  Christ  which  is  far 
better."  The  "spirits  of  just  men  made  perfect"  are  in  the 
heavenly  Jerusalem.  When  John,  the  revelator,  looked  into 
heaven,  he  saw  multitudes  of  redeemed  spirits  standing 
before  God  and  the  Lamb,  "singing  the  new  song,  which 
none  can  sing  but  those  which  were  redeemed  from  the 
earth." 

Please  give  my  regards  to  the  afflicted  family  of  your 
deceased  pastor.     Love  to  the  two  "  Almas." 

Your  brother, 

H.  Eaton. 


260  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

Palmyra,  N.Y.,  July  24,  1883. 
Dear  J.,  —  I  rise  with  the  hark.  I  liave  just  read  the 
Niiiety-first  Psahii  with  Spurgeoii's  comments.  There  is 
honey  in  this  rock,  —  "  The  secret  place  of  the  Most  High," 
the  "  diceUhig  under  the  shadow  of  the  Almighty."  I  think 
much  of  the  hynni,  "How  firm  a  foundation,  ye  saints  of  the 
Lord."  The  anchor  and  the  anchorage  !  How  sweet  the 
promise,  "  As  thy  day  so  shall  thy  strength  be."  We  can 
hang  a  world  on  each  of  the  promises !  .  .  . 

Palmyra,  Aug.  8,  1883. 

Deae.  H.,  —  The  summer  is  gliding  away  most  pleasantly. 
The  girls  are  ver}-  happy  in  each  other's  society.  Your 
mother  and  myself  are  well.  The  pastor  and  session  were 
anxious  that  I  should  occuj)y  my  old  pulpit  during  August. 
Mr.  and  jNIrs.  Landon  are  in  Alburgh,  Vt.  I  preached  last 
Sabbath  morning.  In  the  evening  Rev.  Warner  B.  Riggs 
spoke  beautifully  on  the  word  "  Cornel^'  as  found  in  different 
Scrii)ture  passages.  We  have  union  meetings  in  the  evening 
of  the  Sabbath.  ... 

I  was  much  delighted  to  know  you  were  so  well,  and 
profitably  employed  evenings  with  those  Chinese  youth.  I 
think  it  marvelous  that  they  should  show  such  evidence  of 
improvement  in  so  short  a  time.  There  must  be  native  mind 
in  them.  ...  I  think  of  and  pray  for  you  daily. 

Youii  Affectionate  Father. 

Palmyra,  X.Y.,  Oct.  1,  1883. 

Dear  H.,  —  The  new  postage-stamp  is  before  me.  This 
is  the  first  day  of  its  issue.  The  new  stamp  suggests  the 
changes  in  the  postal  system  of  our  kind  and  accommodating 
Uncle  Sam.  Bela  Morgan  told  me  that  in  1818,  while 
struggling  with  the  hardships  of  a  new  settlement,  he  went 
five  miles  t(j  borrow  the  twenty-five  cents  that  secured  him  a 
letter  from  kindred  he  had  left  behind  in  old  Connecticut. 
I  paid  the  same  price  for  letters  from  my  mother  and  sisters 
while  an  exile  at  St.  Albans,  Vt.  If  I  drop  down  a  few 
years,  I  find  myself  carrying  on  a  brisk  correspondence  iu 


LIGHT  AT  EVENING    TIME.  261 

which  it  was  110  burden  for  me  to  pcay  eighteen  and  three- 
quarters  cents  each  way.  Then  the  stamp  came  down  to 
ten  cents,  then  to  six,  to  three ;  and  now  we  have  but  little 
excuse  for  repressing  the  pen.  Currente  calimo  is  the  voice 
of  the  red,  two-cent  stamp,  and  so  I  let  mine  run.  .  .  . 
Study,  coinnnt  the  Bible. 

Your  Affectionate  Father. 

Palmyra,  Oct.  1,  1883. 

My  dear  Brother  J.,  —  You  have  read  that  the  trial  of 
patience  was  much  more  precious  than  that  of  gold  which 
perisheth.  But  it  was  not  to  try  your  patience  that  I  have 
so  long  delayed  answering  your  last  letter.  Scarcely  do  I 
remember  the  month  that  has  been  so  crowded  with  things 
temporal  and  spiritual,  things  present  and  to  come,  as  the 
last.  I  am  ha[)]iy  to  say  that  the  summer  has  sped  away 
most  delightfully,  and  more  than  usually  profitably.  M.  and 
L.  came  home  worn  with  long  teaching;  and  they  unbent 
the  bow,  and  the  sound  of  laughter  and  song  went  up  from 
the  parsonage  without  restraint.  H.  came  home  in  time  to 
be  with  tliem  cue  week.  But  you  will  say  such  cheerful 
flow  of  soul  is  just  fitted  to  indite  letters  to  kindred.  That 
is  true;  but  while  the  children  were  full  of  glee,  I  was 
pressed  with  S(-ber  duties.  For  my  vacation  I  took  back 
my  old  parish,  doing  the  preaching,  visiting  the  sick,  and 
burying  the  dead  One  week  I  attended  five  funerals.  At 
the  same  time  J  had  on  my  hands  two  reports  to  be  pre- 
sented to  Pjesbv'tery,  demanding  no  little  investigation. 
Then  as  soon  as  Mr.  Landon  had  returned,  and  my  ecclesi- 
astical and  luissionary  efforts  had  been  performed,  I  went 
back  to  the  church  at  ]\Iarion  which  I  serve,  some  six  miles 
from  home.  In  short,  you  will  perceive  that  all  my  time 
and  strength  were  foreclosed  upon.  .  .  . 

Don't  forget  to  pray  for  me  on  the  7th  of  October.    Should 
I  live  to  that  day,  I  shall  be  seventy-three ! 

From  your  youngest  brother, 

Horace. 


CHAPTER   X. 

DEATH.  —  BUMAL.  —  FUNERAL   SERMON.  —  ADDRESSES. 

From  the  «  Palmyra  Courier"  of  Oct.  2G,  1883  :  — 

"Grief  and  sadness  pervade  every  household  in  our  conn n unity  this 
week.  On  Sabbath  morning  last,  just  as  the  sun  was  tinging  the  Octo- 
ber foliage  on  our  beautiful  hills,  tlie  tolling  of  the  church  bell  announced 
to  every  person  within  its  sound  that  a  good  man  had  gone  to  his  rest. 
Rev.  Horace  Eaton,  D.D.,  for  more  than  thirty  years  pastor  of  the  Pres- 
bj'terian  Church  in  this  village,  and  a  man  beloved  in  every  home 
throughout  this  entire  community,  had  in  the  early  niorning  hours 
passed  peacefully  and  quietly  from  the  scenes  of  his  earthly  Jabors  to  the 
better  land  beyond.  Oh,  how  sad  it  is  for  us  to  write  these  lines,  and 
with  what  deep  sorrow  will  they  be  read  by  the  many  friends  of  the 
beloved  deceased  in  distant  homes !  For  nearly  thirty  five  years  this 
Ivind,  affectionate,  and  lovkig  pastor  has  lived  among  us,  carrying  words 
of  cheer  into  the  bereaved  household  and  in  every  way  ministenng  to  our 
social  and  spiritual  welfare.  Xo  man  will  be  moie  deeply  mourned, 
none  so  greatly  missed ;  and  sadness  deep  and  heartfelt  rests  over  us 
to-day  like  a  pall. 

"  In  the  spring  of  1879,  Dr.  Eaton  was  induced,  by  reasoii  of  impaired 
health,  to  tender  his  resignation  as  pastor  of  the  church  over  which  he 
had  so  long  presided.  This  action  was  received  with  deep  regret  by 
every  member  of  the  congregation,  and  strong  effort!  were  made  to 
induce  him  to  remain  in  charge  with  an  assistant.  But  to  this  arrange- 
ment the  beloved  pastor  could  not  consent,  and  very  reluctantly  the 
resignation  was  accepted.  Ilev.  W.  II.  Landon,  the  present  able  pastor, 
succeeded  Dr.  Eaton. 

"  Another  pen  than  ours  will  write  the  history  of  this  noble  man.  His 
sickness  was  of  short  duration.  Less  than  two  weeks  ago  he  complained 
of  severe  pains  in  the  head,  and  later,  congestion  of  the  brain  set  in.  He 
lingered  in  a  semi-unconscious  state  until  four  o'clock  on  Simday  morn- 
ing last,  when  he  passed  peacefully  away,  surrounded  by  his  \\ife,  son, 
two  daughters,  niece,  and  a  few  devoted  friends. 

"On  "Wednesday  afternoon,  the  time  appointed  for  the  funeral,  all 
places  of  business  were  closed,  and  the  stillness  of  a  Sabbath  day  per- 
vaded the  villaire.     Persons  came  from  lone:  distances.     Before  noon  the 


SEEING   "HIM  AS  HE  IS."  263 

people  from  the  siirrounding  towns  began  to  arrive,  and  by  one  o'clock, 
one  hour  before  the  service,  every  seat  in  the  large  church  edifice,  not 
reserved,  was  closely  filled.  After  a  prayer  at  the  house  by  Rev.  W.  L. 
Page,  the  remains  were  conveyed  to  the  church,  the  deacons  and  elders 
acting  as  bearers,  with  the  members  of  the  Presbytery  as  pall-bearers. 
The  church  was  heavily  draped,  and  decorated  profusely  with  choice 
flowers  sent  by  loving  friends.  A  favorite  text  of  the  deceased  pastor 
was  set  forth  by  a  shock  of  corn  fully  ripe.  The  choir  rendered  'Cast 
thy  burden  on  the  Lord.'  A  large  number  of  clergymen  participated  in 
the  exercises,  among  them  the  pastors  of  the  village.  Rev.  Dr.  A.  A. 
Wood  led  the  audience  in  a  solemn  and  affecting  prayer. 

"  The  eloquent  remarks  of  the  pastor.  Rev.  W.  H.  Landon,  were 
listened  to  with  close  attention,  and  the  sad  words  of  tribute  to  the  mem- 
ory of  the  deceased  brought  tears  to  many  eyes.  Rev.  A.  M.  Stowe 
briefly  and  tenderly  spoke  of  the  departed.  Rev.  A.  P.  Burgess  alluded 
very  appropriately  and  earnestly  to  the  great  loss  which  the  Presbytery 
had  sustained.  Rev.  L.  A.  Ostrander  read  a  letter  and  poem  from  Rev. 
G.  II.  Grifiin  of  Milford,  Conn.,  a  member  of  Dr.  Eaton's  Sabbath-school 
while  he  was  a  pastor  in  Xew  York  City.  The  closing  prayer  was  offered 
by  Rev.  W.  A.  Rice. 

"  Just  as  the  beautiful  October  day  was  closing,  the  solemn  procession 
began  its  march  to  the  grave,  —  Sunday-school  teachers,  officers,  deacons, 
and  elders  walking  in  front  of  the  hearse,  the  clergymen  by  tlie  side,  with 
the  family  and  a  large  concourse  of  friends  following  in  carriages.  The 
sun  was  fast  fading  over  the  hilly  slopes  as  all  that  was  mortal  of  Rev. 
Horace  Eaton  was  consigned  to  its  last  resting-place." 

The  following  is  the  sermon  preached  by  Rev.  "W.  H.  Landon  at  the 
funeral  of  Rev.  Dr.  Eaton,  abating  those  portions  in  regard  to  his  life 
and  labors  that  have  been  embodied  in  the  previous  history. 

2  Kings  2 :  14.  "  My  father,  my  father,  the  chariot  of 
Israel  and  the  horsemen  thereof !  " 

Elijah  was  being  borne  from  earth  to  heaven  in  a  chariot 
of  fire.  He  had  come  down  from  Jericho  across  the  Jordan, 
for  even  Elijah  had  to  cross  the  Jordan  before  he  took  the 
chariot  that  conveyed  him  to  heaven.  Elisha  was  looking 
on.  As  he  saw  that  man  of  God  who  had  been  so  much  to 
him,  and  so  much  to  all  Israel,  ascending,  he  cried,  "  My 
father,  my  father,  the  chariot  of  Israel  and  the  horsemen 
thereof!"  By  "the  chariot  of  Israel  and  the  horsemen 
thereof,"  he  referred  to  the  strength  of  Israel.     It  seemed 


264  REV.   HORACE   EATON,   D  D. 

as  if  the  strength  of  Israel  were  being  withdrawn.  True, 
Elisha  was  left,  and  at  Jericho  there  was  a  good  school  of 
the  prophets.  God's  work  would  still  go  on.  But  yet  there 
was  so  much  strength  departing !  To-day  we  feel  like  say- 
ing, "My  father,  my  father,  the  chariot  of  Israel  and  the 
horsemen  thereof !  "  There  are  Elishas  left.  There  are 
schools  of  the  prophets.  God's  work  will  not  stop ;  and 
yet  a  pillar  of  strength  has  departed  from  this  community 
with  the  death  of  our  father.  Dr.  Eaton. 

Friends,  I  do  not  stand  here  to  preach  to  you  to  day.  "We 
are  met  together  as  a  family.  There  are  no  denominational 
lines  here  now.  We  all  feel  that  Dr.  Eaton  belonged  to  us. 
It  is  always  comforting  for  a  family,  after  the  departure  of  a 
loved  one,  to  sit  together  and  talk  of  the  beautiful  in  his 
life,  and  of  the  good  he  has  done.  We  are  here  for  this  pur- 
pose. ... 

In  the  spring  of  1879,  the  burden  of  this  large  charge 
beginning  to  seem  too  heavy.  Dr.  Eaton  resigned  his  position 
as  pastor.  But  such  a  man  could  not  be  idle.  Soon  after, 
he  began  to  minister  to  the  church  of  Marion,  still  retain- 
ing, however,  his  home  among  his  old  people.  There  he 
labored  for  four  years,  till  the  time  of  his  death,  completing 
a  ministry  of  more  than  forty-two  years. 

Able  as  Dr.  Eaton  was  to  teach  others,  he  boasted  of  no 
great  knowledge,  but  was  willing  to  sit  at  the  feet  of  the 
humblest,  and  learn.  To  us  lie  seemed  a  fully-ripened  Chris- 
tian character,  —  to  himself,  only  a  poor  sinner,  saved  by 
grace.  He  gave  self  but  little  thought.  He  was  nothing; 
God  and  His  cause  were  all.  In  preaching,  he  hid  himself 
behind  the  great  truths  he  proclaimed.  He  was  thoroughly 
unselfish.  Living  with  him  in  his  own  home  for  four  years, 
succeeding  him  in  the  pastoral  charge  of  this  church,  I  have 
occupied  a  position  in  which,  if  there  had  been  a  selfish  trait 
in  him,  I  should  surely  have  discovered  it.  And  now  I  wish 
to  testify  that  I  have  never  heard  him  give  utterance  to  the 
first  selfish  thought.  I  have  never  seen  him  do  the  first 
selfish  act.  It  gave  him  pain  to  hear  of  the  failings  of  others. 
He  had  two  responses :  one,  "  I  can't  believe  it,  there  must 


SEEING   ''HIM  AS   HE   IS."  265 

be  some  mistake";  the  other,  a  grave,  sad,  significant,  '■'■  I  am 
sorry.''''  He  took  the  blame  of  every  one's  faults  in  the 
parish  upon  himself,  —  "Had  I  been  what  I  ought,  these 
things  would  not  have  taken  place." 

His  conversation  was  never  trivial.  He  had  a  fund  of 
good  stories,  and  he  knew  how  to  tell  them.  But  they  ever 
"pointed  a  moral,"  or  impressed  a  truth.  He  had  a  mind 
richly  stored  with  material  for  interesting  and  profitable  con- 
versation. It  can  be  said  of  him  as  truthfully  as  of  almost 
any  man,  that  tvhatsoever  he  did,  he  did  to  the  glory  of  God. 
He  had  a  marvelous  faculty  of  weaving  the  Scriptures  into 
common  conversation,  but  he  never  did  it  irreverently.  His 
genial  face,  his  pleasant  discourse,  his  genuine  Christian 
spirit,  were  magnets  of  attraction.  To  see  him  and  visit 
with  him  but  once,  was  to  learn  to  know  and  love  him.  So 
tenderly  have  we  loved  him  here  in  Palmyra  and  in  Wayne 
Count}^  that  we  may  have  thought  we  Avere  the  only  losers 
by  this  death.  But  there  are  many  elsewhere  who  are  deeply 
afflicted  by  this  event.  There  is  a  large  circle  of  kindred, 
widely  scattered,  who  have  regarded  this  man  with  great 
affection  and  reverence.  The  summer  gathering  at  Eaton 
Grange,  in  old  New  Hampshire,  was  never  quite  complete 
without  the  presence  of  "  Uncle  Horace."  In  many  States 
and  Territories  are  members  of  his  old  congregation,  who 
have  loved  to  listen  to  the  gospel  from  his  lips  in  years  gone 
by.  Their  tears  will  fall  with  ours.  He  endeavored  to  com- 
mend himself  to  every  man's  conscience.  "  Commending 
ourselves  to  every  man's  conscience  in  the  sight  of  God," 
was  a  favorite  text  with  him. 

He  was  very  generous,  —  generous  to  a  fault,  some  thought. 
To  such  fears  he  used  to  reply,  "  I  have  a  good  bank-note,  — 
it  is  this :  '  Trust  in  the  Lord,  and  do  good.  So  shalt  thou 
dwell  in  the  land,  and  verily  thou  shalt  be  fed.' "  He  often 
said,  no  one  should  deprive  him  of  the  joy  of  giving.  I  pre- 
sume he  rarely,  if  ever,  turned  a  poor  man  away  who  asked 
him  for  alms.  He  gave  largely  to  the  cause  of  missions.  .  .  . 
At  the  meeting  of  the  American  Board  at  Portland,  Me.,  a 
little  more  than  a  year  ago,  he  rose  with  others,  and  signi- 


266  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

fied  his  willingness  to  double  his  contribution  that  year.  He 
said  he  was  not  sure  he  ought  to  have  done  it,  but  he  could 
not  help  it.  He  is  not  sorry  now.  It  was  his  last  offering 
to  that  glorious  charity.  The  incident  was  characteristic  of 
the  man. 

Dr.  Eaton  was  a  student,  —  a  learned  man.  His  large 
library  is  filled  with  books  that  are  well  thumbed.  He  was 
a  profound  scholar  in  the  Scriptures.  He  knew  more  of 
Greek  and  Hebrew  than  the  large  majority  of  ministers  out- 
side of  theological  seminaries.  He  always  read  from  the 
Greek  Testament  every  morning  in  his  private  devotions. 
He  called  that  book  his  "pocket-pistol." 

He  was  a  great  lover  of  nature.  He  saw  more  than  most 
men  do.  This  made  his  letters  which  he  wrote  for  the  press 
so  rich  and  interesting.  .  .  .  He  loved  the  fine  elms  in  front 
of  his  home.  He  had  watched  their  growth  from  the  time 
they  were  small  trees.  Many  a  morning,  after  family  prayers, 
he  would  take  friends  out  upon  the  front  steps  to  admire 
them. 

In  his  private  and  family  devotions  as  well  as  in  public 
prayer,  Dr.  Eaton  seemed  to  get  very  near  to  God.  .  .  . 
None  of  us  who  were  present  at  the  ^Missionary  Convention 
in  this  church  three  weeks  ago  this  forenoon  will  soon  forget 
the  prayer  he  offered  after  our  brother  Riggs  from  Texas 
had  made  his  stirring  address.  It  was  his  last  prayer  in 
public.  And  dear  friends  of  the  Marion  Church,  if  you 
knew  how  he  had  prayed  for  you,  you  would  all  be  encour- 
aged to  labor  as  you  never  have  before.  Every  morning 
during  the  last  week  in  which  he  was  able  to  lead  the  family 
in  worship,  lie  prayed  earnestly  for  your  church.  "  God 
bless  Marion,"  "God  bless  the  dear  little  church,"  were 
frequent  expressions  in  his  prayers. 

In  the  pulpit  it  was  his  endeavor  not  to  display  his  learning 
or  his  wit,  but  to  feed  his  people.  He  sought  to  obey  the 
injunction,  "  Take  heed  therefore  unto  yourselves,  and  to  all 
the  flock  over  the  which  the  Holy  Ghost  hath  made  you  over- 
seers to  feed  the  church  of  God  which  He  hath  purchased 
with  His  own  blood."     And  many  are  the  people  who  can 


SEEING   ^'IIIM  AS   HE   IS."  267 

testify  that  he  fed  them  "witli  the  sincere  milk  of  the  Word, 
and  that  the}'  liave  grown  thereby."  The  trutli  that  lie 
preached  he  presented  in  an  interesting,  vivid  manner. 
Many  of  his  sentences  were  short  and  crisp.  He  could  pack 
an  immense  amount  of  meaning  into  a  single  word.  Under 
his  preaching  here  for  thirty  years,  the  people  of  this  congre- 
gation formed  a  habit  of  always  looking  toward  the  pulpit. 
They  knew  that  a  sermon  would  come  from  that  place  which 
they  could  not  afford  to  lose. 

Dr.  Eaton  was  a  broad  man.  He  was  interested  in  all 
great  moral  and  social  questions,  interested  in  all  that  per- 
tained to  the  good  of  this  entire  community.  He  belonged 
to  the  town  as  well  as  the  church.  He  took  a  deep  interest 
in  its  history  and  growth.  Beside  a  document  printed  in 
1876,  entitled  "The  Early  History  of  Palmyra,"  he  has  left 
many  manuscripts  full  of  statistics  in  regard  to  the  families 
of  this  town.  One  remarked  to  him,  "  You  know,  Dr.  Eaton, 
more  about  our  ancestors  than  we,  their  descendants,  know 
about  them."  He  often  conversed  with  aged  people  with 
his  pencil  in  his  hand  and  a  note-book  on  his  knee.  He 
would  have  enjoyed  preparing  an  extended  history  of  the 
town  ;  but  he  had  not  time  and  strength  for  this  and  for  his 
other  duties.  He  said,  "  Preaching  Christ  is  the  best  and 
the  biggest  business."  .  .  . 

It  is  impossible  to  measure  the  influence  of  his  life  or  the 
work  that  he  has  done  in  this  community.  He  has  been  the 
pastor  of  all  who  were  not  actually  members  of  other  congre- 
gations. He  has  buried  their  dead.  He  has  married  their 
children.  He  has  attended  over  eleven  hundred  funerals 
here,  probably  nearer  twelve  liundred.  He  has  united  as 
many  couples  in  marriage.  It  is  not  known  how  many  he 
received  into  the  communion  of  this  church,  but  the  number 
must  be  very  large.  It  is  doubtfid  whether  he  ever  counted 
them.  He  did  not  spend  as  much  time  as  most  of  us  in 
counting  results.  He  worked  with  all  his  strength,  and  left 
results  with  God. 

He  was  certainly  very  remarkable  as  a  pastor.  Ministers 
are  rare  who   can  do  as  much  pastoral  visiting  as  he   did. 


268  REV.  iron  ACE  eat  on,  d.d. 

He  would  brighten  np  a  home  hy  his  presence,  preacli  the 
glorious  gospel  of  repentance  and  of  comfort  ^  in  a  few  words, 
and  be  off  again,  in  the  time  that  others  would  require  to 
introduce  conversation  by  some  commonplace  remarks. 

Vast  were  the  proportions  of  his  pastoral  labors.  Eleven 
hundred  funerals !  To  how  many  liomes,  to  how  many 
hearts,  he  must  have  carried  the  consolations  of  the  gospel ! 
How  many  sick-rooms  he  must  have  visited  before  those 
funerals,  and  how  many  prayers  lie  must  have  offered  there ! 
No  wonder  he  endeared  himself  to  all  this  people  He  had 
been  with  almost  every  family  in  sorrow  or  in  joy.  When 
he  read  his  resignation  to  this  church,  it  came  as  a  great 
surprise  to  the  people.  Many  left  the  church  weeping. 
They  felt  in  their  hearts,  "It  must  not  be.  We  can  know 
no  other  pastor."  Only  the  thought  that  he  would  remain 
here,  and  still  counsel  and  give  the  benediction  of  his  pres- 
ence, reconciled  them  to  a  change.  During  the  four  years 
and  a  half  that  have  passed  since  then,  he  has  ])een  as  a  father 
to  us  all.  He  has  been  a  pastor  to  the  i)astor,  —  such  a  help 
as  few  pastors  ever  knew.  He  has  been  called  upon  in  this 
time  to  attend  many  funerals  and  weddings,  and  to  perform 
other  pastoral  duties;  but  it  has  been  his  great  anxiety  not 
to  embarrass  in  anv  way  his  successor's  work  ;  and  he  never 
has  in  the  slightest  degree.  On  the  contrary,  he  has  helped 
him  daily  by  his  encouraging  words,  his  kindly  counsel,  and 
his  prayers. 

There  is  not  time  to  tell  of  the  great  refreshings  this 
church  has  enjoyed  under  his  ministry. 

Time  fails  also  to  speak  of  the  Christian  literature  he  has 
distributed  through  these  homes.  He  has  scattered  thou- 
sands and  thousands  of  interesting  and  well-selected  tracts, 
— he  called  them  "sharpshooters," — and  thousands  of  Chris- 
tian almanacs.      F'or  twenty-six   years   he  presented   every 


*  In  a  brief  call  on  a  mother  wlio  had  just  buried  a  little  child,  he  spoke  of 
the  sweet  prospect  of  re-union.  "Yes,"  said  the  mourner,  "if  we  do  not  fail." 
His  few  words  of  reply,  and  the  manner  in  which  he  uttered  them,  sent 
strength  and  hope  to  the  stricken  heart :  "  Mrs. ,  we  must  not  fail." 


SEEING  ''HIM  AS  HE  IS."  269 

family  in  his  congregation  with  a  Christian  almanac  at  the 
beginning  of  the  year.^ 

1  These  almanacs  sometimes  contained  a  printed  New-year's  greeting  of 
his  own ;  — 

"  Deau  Eeader,  —  Time  is  the  twinkling  through  which  the  future  is 
darting  by  us  into  the  past.  Yesterday  is  gone.  To-morrow  is  unknown. 
Eigliteen  lumdred  sixty-nine  is  fled,  with  more  than  tliirty  millions  of  souls. 
Eighteen  hundred  and  seventy  will  claim  an  equal  quota  from  among  the 
living.  Before  another  new  year  shall  dawn  upon  the  frozen  earth,  who  of 
us  shall  know  the  mysteries  of  death  ? 

"  But  these  New-year's  thoughts  should  chasten,  not  quench,  the  greeting 
"  '  Happy  New  Year  ! ' 

"  As  we.  cross  a  new  meridian,  let  us  leave  behind  old  vices,  errors, 
neglects,  animosities.  Let  us  seek  new  strength  for  new  trials,  duties,  suc- 
cesses. Let  us  borrow  less  trouble  of  the  future,  and  be  more  intent  on 
present  duty ;  complain  less  that  life  is  short,  and  make  it  long  by  acts  of 
kindness  to  men  and  of  piety  towards  God.  Life  is  measured,  not  by  the  time 
we  live,  but  by  the  good  we  do.     Repentance  of  sin, 

"Trust  in  Jesus, 
reverence  for  the  Sabbatli,  punctual  attendance  upon  the  House  of  God,  dili- 
gence in  business,  fervency  in  Spirit,  serving  the  Lord,  will  make  this  new 
year  glide  peacefully  along,  and  if  it  shall  prove   our  last,  it  will  be   the 
happiest  of  all.  Your  friend  and  well-wisher, 

"Palmyra,  N.Y.,  Jan.  1,  1870.  "HORACE   EATON." 


"LOCK   UP. 

"Buffalo  is  five  hundred  and  sixty-five  feet  above  Albany.  The  boatman 
must  make  this  entire  ascent  before  he  comes  to  the  harbor  at  the  terminus. 
To  do  this  he  must  avail  himself  of  the  locks  at  the  end  of  every  level. 
Reader,  if  we  would  finally  '  cast  anchor  within  the  veil,'  must  we  not 
*  lock  up  "? 

"Dear  child,  enjoy  your  fun,  your  food,  your  play,  your  home,  but  let 
no  scar  cleave  to  your  young  life.  Let  the  early  dew  linger  on  the  tender 
leaf.  Let  innocence,  obedience  to  parents  and  teachers,  love  to  the  precious 
Saviour,  raise  you  to  a  pure  and  promising  youth. 

"Have  you  just  emerged  from  childhood  ?  Be  careful  now  to  make  no  mistake. 
Contract  no  soil.  Laughing  health,  a  sunnj^  countenance,  a  good  name, 
incorruptible  principle,  a  pure  conscience,  and  trust  in  God,  will  carry  you  up 
into  a  mature  life,  freighted  with  eflaciency  and  usefulness. 

"  Have  you  come  to  the  responsibilities  of  manhood,  to  the  hazards  of  business, 
and  the  care  of  others  ?     Aim  for  a  still  higher  plane.     Look  well  to  the 


270  REV.   HORACE   EATON,   D.D. 

He  was  in  great  request  on  special  occasions,  such  as 
silver  and  golden  weddings.  Though  his  labors  were  very 
arduous  in  other  directions,  he  was  ever  ready  with  felicitous, 
facetious,  and  instructive  remarks. 

Besides  his  pastoral  labors  here,  he  was,  as  it  were,  the  pastor 
of  all  the  feeble  and  pastorless  churches  in  the  Presbytery. 
They  came  long  distances  to  confer  with  him.  They  knew 
he  was  their  friend,  and  that  he  loved  them.  He  has  been  a 
father  to  the  Presbytery.  He  has  seen  all  those  who  were 
associated  with  him  in  the  Presbytery,  when  he  first  came, 
depart  to  other  fields  or  to  their  final  reward.  He  has  seen 
otliers  come  and  go,  and  still  others  come.  lUit  he  has 
remained  the  wise  counsellor  of  all,  having  in  some  sense 
"  the  care  of  all  the  churches."  He  has  preached  sermons  at 
the  dedication  of  many  of  our  churches,  at  the  ordination 
and  installation  of  many  pastors  within  and  without  our 
bounds.  When  we  hold  our  next  meeting,  dear  l^rethren  of 
Lyons  Presbytery,  there  will  be  a  vacancy  which  we  shall 
very  deeply  feel.  We  shall  be  like  a  family  bereft  of  a  father 
to  whom  they  were  accustomed  to  go  with  all  their  perplexi- 
ties and  fears,  and  in  whose  wisdom  and  advice  they  had  the 
utmost  confidence. 

freight  you  take  on  board.  Do  impenitence,  impatience,  evil  liabits,  idleness, 
rum,  tobacco,  plead  for  a  passage  ?  Before  you  change  almanacs  and  enter 
upon  another  year,  throw  them  all  overboard.  'Lock  ?/p '  into  a  higher  life, 
that  will  bear  you  on  to  a  serene  old  age  and  a  blissful  eternity.  Postpone 
no  longer  the  pleasure  and  safety  of  true  wisdom  and  true  religion.  The  new 
year  is  the  time  to  lock  up. 

"To  the  cliild,  the  youth,  the  man,  to  the  aged,  the  voice  of  the  'IIAITY 
NEW  YEAR  '  of  1871  is,  '  Friend,  come  up  higher.' 

"'For  the  faithful  and  victorious. 

Out  of  blindness,  wide  the  portal 
Openeth  into  light  how  glorious  ! 
Out  of  death  to  life  immortal! 
,  Come  up  higher ! 

Fair  in  this  sweet  land 
The  many  mansions  stand; 
Come  up  higher ! ' 

"  Your  friend  and  well-wisher,  HORACE   EATON. 

"Jan.  1,  1871." 


SEEING   "HIM  AS   HE   IS."  271 

.  .  .  His  heavy  pastoral  labors  were  relieved  somewhat  by 
pleasant  vacations,  pleasant  journeys  in  our  own  and  other 
lands.  He  liad  visited  many  parts  of  our  own  country,  east, 
south,  and  west.  .  .  . 

He  preached  his  last  sermon  ^  to  his  old  people  in  this 
church  seven  weeks  ago,  Aug.  29.  The  text  itself.  Josh. 
1 : 8,  was  a  fit  and  beautiful  parting  message  to  this  people, 
a  message  that  ought  to  ring  in  our  ears  all  the  rest  of  our 
days :  "  This  book  of  the  law  shall  not  depart  out  of  thy 
mouth,  but  thou  shalt  meditate  therein  day  and  night,  that 
thou  maj'est  observe  to  do  according  to  all  that  is  written 
therein,  for  then  thou  shalt  make  thy  way  prosperous,  and 
then  thou  shalt  have  good  success."  In  this  sermon  he 
pleads  earnestly  with  the  people  to  read  the  Holy  Scriptures, 
and  meditate  upon  them. 

Dear  friends,  this  is  a  time  for  meditation.  Let  us  not 
hurry  away  from  these  services  to  our  work,  and  forget  the 
feelings  and  good  impulses  of  this  hour.  This  is  a  time  for 
meditation,  and  for  consecration.  Let  us  think  upon  this 
career,  its  unselfishness,  its  devotion,  its  peaceful  close,  its 
present  reward,  and  begin  a  new  and  better  life.  We  know 
how  this  man  loved  us.  He  loved  this  church  and  this  peo- 
ple so  well,  that  he  would  have  been  willing  to  lay  down  his 
life  for  them,  if  it  had  been  necessary.  In  one  sense  he  did 
lay  down  his  life  for  them.  He  has  given  all  the  strength  of 
his  best  years  to  the  one  endeavor  to  lead  this  people  to 
Christ.  Oh  that  his  love  to  us  might  constrain  us  all  to  love 
his  Saviour!  It  was  the  great  aim  of  his  life  to  save 
souls.  .  .  .  There  was  an  unexpressed  but  apparent  desire  in 
his  last  illness,  that  his  death  should  do  what  he  had  been 

1  The  text  of  the  sermon  previous  to  the  last  was  Ps.  78  :  41  :  "  And 
limited  the  Holy  One  of  Israel."  He  was  greatly  interested  and  absorbed 
while  writing  on  this  theme.  He  talked  about  it  when  he  "  sat  in  liis  house 
and  when  he  walked  by  the  way."  "This  is  a  great  subject,  A.,"  he  said. 
"  We  don't  begin  to  fathom  it.  It  is  a  great  sin  to  '  limit  the  Holy  One  of 
Israel.'  How  much  more  are  we  permitted,  commanded,  to  trust  God!  How 
much  more  would  He  do  for  us,  for  our  friends,  and  for  those  for  whom  we 
pray,  if  we  did  not  limit  Him  !" 


272  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

trying  to  do  in  his  life,  —  quicken  the  hearts  of  his  people, 
and  lead  souls  to  Christ.  Oh  that  the  Holy  Spirit  would 
bring  to  our  remembrance  the  earnest  appeals  he  has  made 
to  us  as  a  peo])le,  and  to  so  many  of  us  individually !  Shortly 
before  he  was  taken  sick,  he  remarked  at  his  liome,  "  I  think 
I  have  conversed  personally  with  all,  or  nearl}^  all,  of  my 
impenitent  friends  in  this  place.  But  I  want  to  go  around 
and  see  each  one  of  them  again,  and  once  more  entreat  them  to 
believe  on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  u'ith  their  whole  hearts" 
Hear  from  these  sealed  lips  the  words  of  warning  and  of 
love  he  would  fain  have  uttered ! 

I  think  we  may  discern  the  goodness  of  God  in  taking  our 
father  and  friend  at  this  time.  He  usually  seemed  to  have 
all  the  vigor  and  enthusiasm  of  his  earlier  life.  There  were 
times  when  we  were  constrained  to  say,  "His  eye  is  not  dim, 
nor  his  natural  force  abated";  and  yet  there  Avere  others, 
when  it  was  evident  that  he  must  soon  give  up  regular 
work,  and  this  he  was  intending  to  do  the  first  of  January. 
He  would  have  borne  this  with  all  the  patience  that  became 
a  man  of  God ;  and  yet  it  would  haVfe  been  very  hard  for 
him.  Such  men  as  Dr.  Eaton  cannot  easily  lie  upon  a  shelf. 
I  think  it  is  almost  always  the  prayer  of  men  of  such  activity 
that  they  may  die  in  the  harness.  He  continued  his  regular 
ministrations  till  this  serious  illness  came.  The  third  Sabbath 
before  his  death  he  was  in  his  pulpit  at  Marion.  The  fol- 
lowing week  he  selected  the  hymns  for  the  next  Sabbath's 
service,  and  on  his  couch  dictated  his  resignation.  It  was 
his  last  effort  at  composition. 

Our  loss  is  very  great,  yet  not  so  great  as  his  gain.  He 
has  left  us  many  thoughts  to  comfort  us.  In  one  of  his 
recent  sermons,  entitled  "Between  Migdol  and  the  Sea,"  he 
says,  "God  brings  His  people  into  exigencies,  that  they  may 
have  a  sweeter  experience  of  His  name.  His  guiding,  pro- 
tecting, and  comforting  presence."  Again:  "But  to  every 
true  believer  tliere  comes  a  moment  when  his  faith  stands 
still,  and  waits  the  voice,  the  hand,  the  salvation,  of  God,  The 
position  of  Moses  was  grand  when  he  looked  up  straight  to 
heaven,  saying,  '  My  soul,  wait  thou  only,  o}ilg  upon  God.' " 


SEEING   "IIIM  AS   HE  IS." 


273 


His  last  days  were  full  of  peace.  Sabbath,  the  7th  of 
October,  two  weeks  before  his  death,  was  his  seventy-third 
birthday.  His  memory  teemed  with  reminiscences  of  his 
youth,  especially  as  preparatory,  and  related  to  his  great  life- 
work,  the  gospel  ministry. 

Every  morning  of  the  week  preceding  that  last  week  of 
prostration,  he  observed  family  prayers  as  regularly  as 
before.  Another  would  read,  and  he,  lying  upon  his  lounge, 
with  clasped  hands,  would  pray.  One  week  ago  last  Satur- 
day morning  he  conducted  family  prayer  for  the  last  time. 
''Bead  the  Bible,''  said  he;  ''read  a  good  whiles  The  pas- 
sages selected  by  another  were  the  healing  of  the  centurion's 
servant  and  the  raising  of  the  widow's  son.  "  Shall  we  read 
more?"'  was  asked.  "Yes;  that  is  goodr  But  no  one  had 
the  self-control  to  read  more.  So  there  in  his  chair,  "the 
saint,  the  father,  and  the  husband,"  in  a  sweet,  feeble  voice, 
offered  his  last  prayer  at  the  family  altar.  Twice  he  stopped 
from  exhaustion,  then  resumed  where  he  left  off.  He  com- 
menced by  thanking  God  that  He  had  made  the  way  of  sal- 
vation so  simple  and  easy,  thanking  Him  that  when  we  had 
sinned  he  had  not  forgotten  us,  thanking  Him  for  all  His 
providential  dealings  and  great  faithfulness,  especially  for 
granting  him  the  glorious  privilege  of  preaching  His  gospel. 
Then  he  prayed  at  length  for  his  children,  one  by  one,  then 
in  the  most  fervent  manner  for  all  his  kindred,  then  for  a 
long  time  he  besought  God  for  "the  dear  people  in  this 
place,  whom  he  had  so  feebly  tried  to  serve,"  then  for  the 
dear  little  flock  at  Marion.  After  a  pause,  brightening  up, 
and  speaking  with  somewhat  of  his  wonted  energy,  he  prayed 
that,  if  it  were  the  Lord's  will,  he  might  be  restored  to 
health,  so  that  he  could  proclaim  His  truth  and  speak  of  His 
love  a  little  longer.  Then  he  said,  "  We  thank  thee  that  we 
are  in  thy  hands,  that  we  are  not  in  our  own  hands,"  closing 
with  the  most  confiding,  filial  expression  of  gratitude,  sub- 
mission, and  love.  He  then  went  to  his  room,  which  he 
never  left  again.  He  did  not  take  his  bed  until  late  on 
Saturday  afternoon.  All  day  he  admired  the  autumn  leaves, 
noticing  particularly  that  there  were  green  leaves  with  the 


274  .  REV.  HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

faded  and  the  yellow.  He  seemed  so  thanlcfully  satisfied  with 
every  thing.  The  food  was  "so  palatable,"  friends  were 
"  so  kind  and  sympathetic."  "  If  I  were  a  king,"  said  he, 
"I  could  not  have  a  pleasanter  room  than  this."  He  alluded 
with  great  interest  to  the  beautiful  text  from  which  Rev. 
William  L.  Page  preached  the  funeral  sermon  of  his  son  in 
1868:  "For  I  know  whom  I  have  believed, and  am  persuaded 
that  He  is  able  to  keep  that  which  I  have  committed  unto 
Him  against  that  day."  "  Yes,"  said  he,  "  keep  against  the 
day  of  death,  keep  against  the  day  of  judgment,  keep  for- 
ever." 

When  the  bells  rang  for  church  on  the  last  Sabbath  morn- 
ing that  he  ever  heard  them,  he  said,  with  a  slight  look  of 
anxiety  on  his  face,  "What  will  they  do  at  Marion  to-day?" 
then,  with  a  satisfied  smile,  he  added,  "  God  loves  His  cause 
better  than  I  do,''  and  turning  on  his  side  went  tranquilly  to 
sleep. 

Though  the  disease  was  congestion  of  the  brain,  there  was 
rarely  any  wandering  of  mind  when  fairly  roused.  There 
was  no  cr}^  or  moan  or  motion  of  distress,  save  now  and  then 
some  contortion  of  face  when  the  "waves  and  surges  of 
pain,"  as  he  called  them,  swept  through  his  head.  These, 
however,  were  temporary.  During  the  last  fourteen  hours 
of  his  life  there  were  no  indications  whatever  of  pain. 

On  Monday  morning  his  daughter  said  to  him,  "Father,  I 
must  go  away  for  a  little  while ;  but  mother  is  here."  He 
answered,  ''■And  God  is  here,  Jesus  is  here.'^  How  like  John 
Wesley's  dying  words :  "  The  best  of  it  all  is,  God  is  with 
us,  Jesus  is  with  us"!  At  another  time  that  forenoon: 
"  Religion  first,  Christ  in  the  top."" 

On  the  Tuesday  before  his  death  he  sank  very  rapidly.  In 
the  afternoon  and  evening  he  was  insensible,  and  his  pulse 
very  rai)id.  It  seemed  to  most  of  us  that  lie  could  not  live 
till  morning.  His  son  and  one  daugiiter  were  still  far  away. 
But  Wednesday  morning  he  returned  to  consciousness,  and 
appeared  so  much  like  himself  as  to  awaken  in  our  anxious 
liearts  some  hope  of  his  recovery.  He  remahied  quite  bright 
until  Thursday,  —  until  all  his  family,  whom  he  loved  so  ten- 


SEEING  ''HIM  AS   HE  IS."  .     275 

derly,  had  gathered  around  him.  It  seeins  now  as  if  God 
gave  back  his  life  for  a  little  while,  in  answer  to  prayer,  that 
all  liis  family  might  have  the  blessing  and  comfort  of  hearing 
his  Words  once  more. 

On  Wednesday  morning  his  wife  and  physician  were  by  his 
bedside.  He  looked  lovingly  to  the  former,  and,  calling  her 
by  her  first  name,  said,  "Let  us  review  the  way  the  Lord  has 
led  us.  It  a  wonderful  way,  —  wonderful,  loonderfiiiy  Then, 
folding  his  hands,  he  broke  forth  into  a  prayer  exquisite  in 
language,  and  indescribable  in  its  petitions  and  expressions 
of  trust:  "We  bless  thee,  O  Lord,  for  what  thou  hast  done 
for  us,  especially  in  these  latter  days.  Thou  hast  led  us  all 
our  lives  long,  and  redeemed  us  from  evil."  Then  he  prayed 
for  his  children ;  then  for  "  the  dear  people  to  whom  we  have 
so  imperfectly  ministered,"  begging  the  Lord  to  infold  them 
all,  to  let  none  wander,  or  neglect  the  great  salvation.  In  all, 
he  had  but  one  or  two  requests  for  himself.  The  pra3^er  was 
for  others:  '■'•Carry  on  thy  ivork  all  over  the  world!'"'  Then, 
"  Lord,  if  it  can  be  thy  will,  give  us  an  easy  passage."  He 
ended  with  an  ascription  of  praise  to  the  Deity,  much  like 
that  he  was  Avont  to  use  in  the  pulpit.  No  words  can  give 
any  idea  of  this  his  last  audible  prayer. 

Thursday  morning  he  repeated  this  text,  "  A  glorious  high 
throne  from  the  beginning  is  the  place  of  our  sanctuary." 
" It's  a  throne  ;  it's  a  glorious  throne;  a  high  throne,  —  yes, 
high  throyiey  In  intervals  of  consciousness  he  gave  utter- 
ance to  such  expressions  as  these:  "The  wonderful  unfold- 
ings  of  God's  providence  "  !  "  Greatly  bless  the  dear  people 
we  have  tried  to  lead!"  With  what  emphasis  did  he  utter 
the  words,  "  Crod  is  good,  so  good  "  .'' 

Thursday,  just  before  noon,  he  awoke,  after  a  refreshing 
nap.  His  daughter  said,  "  You've  had  a  sweet  sleep,  father." 
—  "  Have  I  ?  "  he  replied.  Then,  pausing  a  little,  "  My  days 
are  ahnost  over  for  sleeping,  —  sinning,  —  repenti7ig  ;  —  hut  my 
singing  is  yet  to  come.'''' 

His  hands  frequently  moved,  making  those  significant  ges- 
tures with  which  we  are  all  so  familiar.  It  seemed  as  if  he 
would  preach  with  his  hands  when  his  voice  could  no  longer 


276  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

speak.  Ilis  last  words  were  spoken  on  Friday  afternoon,  to 
his  family  assembled  around  his  bed.  They  were,  ^^  Meet  me 
in  he 


aven .' 


/ " 


Saturday  afternoon  the  last  scene  began.  The  river  was 
wide  in  the  place  where  he  crossed,  the  time  long  that  he  was 
in  the  current ;  but  the  waves  and  billows  were  not  higli,  or 
rough,  or  boisterous.  At  the  first  he  gazed  with  eyes  of  ten- 
derness and  recognition  from  one  to  another,  and  "looked  the 
words  he  could  not  speak."  He  raised  his  hands  in  response 
to  the  prayer  of  the  pastor.  The  ripples  on  the  river  where 
it  touched  the  other  shore  were  so  gentle  that  they  were 
scarcely  heard.  The  ph3'sician  leaned  over  him,  and  said, 
"  Is  it  possible  that  that  soul  has  stolen  away,  and  we  do  not 
know  it?" 

What  was  next  for  him?  We  stand  in  the  position  which 
he  occupied  three  weeks  ago,  when  he  wrote  to  a  friend  in 
New  York,  after  Dr.  Hatfield's  death :  — 

"In  vain  my  fancy  strives  to  paint 
The  moment  after  death, 
The  glories  that  surround  the  saint 
When  yielding  up  his  breath." 

As  a  parishioner  listened  to  the  solemn  tolling  of  the  bell 
last  Sabbath  morning,  she  beautifully  said,  '•''  He  has  gone  early 
this  morning.,  to  he  in  season  to  hold  a  reunion-service  with  the 
Palmyra  Christians  ivho  loved  him  so  much.""  What  a  large 
congregation  of  his  old  people  must  have  greeted  him  !  There 
are  more  there  than  here.  Of  the  church-members  who  wel- 
comed him  thirty-five  years  ago,  only  forty-four  remain. 

"One  family  we  dwell  in  Ilim, 
One  church  above,  beneath." 

Our  brother,  friend,  and  father  has  gone  to  rest.  His  face, 
so  beautiful  to  us  all  in  life,  so  peaceful  in  death,  calls  to  mind 
these  words  in  one  of  the  old  hymns  he  loved  :  — 

"  Let  cares  like  a  wild  deluge  come, 
And  storms  of  sorrow  fall. 
May  I  but  safely  reach  my  home. 
My  God,  my  heaven,  my  all! 


SEEING   ''HIM  AS  HE  IS."  277 

"  There  shall  I  bathe  my  weary  soul 
In  seas  of  heavenly  rest, 
And  not  a  wave  of  trouble  roll 
Across  my  peaceful  breast." 

Remarks  of  Rev.  A.  M.  Stowe  :  — 

For  more  than  thirty  years  it  has  been  my  privilege  to 
call  our  deceased  brother  a  dear  friend.  While  a  student 
in  Auburn  Theological  Seminary  in  1850,  he  invited  me  to 
spend  a  winter  vacation  with  him.  Those  three  weeks  of 
Christian  work  in  Palmyra  Avere  the  commencement  of  a 
lifelong  friendship.  It  was  a  great  privilege  to  know  such 
a  man  as  Dr.  Eaton,  and  to  know  him  in  his  family  as  well 
as  in  his  pulpit. 

In  these  brief  remarks  I  would  emphasize  two  or  three 
thoughts  which  are  just  now  prominent  in  my  mind. 

First,  The  exercises  at  his  daily  family  altar  gave  me  an 
opportunity  to  observe  his  love  and  reverence  for  the  Sacred 
Scriptures.  His  explanations  of  the  Bible  were  original.  You 
could  carry  them  away  with  you,  and  feed  upon  them.  He 
was  ever  seeking  after  the  root  of  the  Scripture  thought.  The 
Hebrew  and  the  Greek  were  familiar  languages  to  him  ;  and 
those  present  had  the  advantage  of  his  knowledge. 

Very  early  in  his  ministry  in  Palmyra  he  sought  to  supply 
this  entire  community  with  the  Scriptures  and  with  those 
books  which  explain  and  enforce  the  truths  of  God's  word. 
This  was  my  mission  during  that  vacation.  I  left  his  door 
in  the  morning  with  the  precious  load,  and  returned  in  the 
evening  to  render  my  report.  I  remember  those  evening 
talks,  encouraging  words,  and  good  cheer. 

Again:  All  classes  loved  Dr.  Eaton,  because  he  loved  them. 
You  who  compose  this  vast  audience  to-day  have  closed  your 
banks  and  offices  and  stores,  and  are  here  because  of  your 
great  regard  for  him.  You  can  bear  witness  that  he  drew 
you  up  to  his  heart.  He  prayed  for  you,  he  toiled  for  you, 
in  your  sickness  and  in  your  health,  in  prosperity  and  adver- 
sity: he  was  your  interested  friend.  His  devotion  of  soul 
embraced  every  class  of  citizens.  He  was  willing  to  serve 
with  diligence  not  only,  but  with  a  self-abnegation  that  often 


278  REV.   HORACE   EATON,   D.D. 

amazed  the  people.  .  .  .  He  would  pronounce  those  words 
"  Whosoever  will,  let  him  come  "  with  peculiar  power.  He 
was  patient  with  the  fallen  ;  and  his  wise  guiding  hand  led 
nianj-  from  paths  of  danger.  In  the  lecture-room,  in 
public  halls,  and  with  his  able  pen,  he  aided  every  philan- 
thropic cause.  All  these  years  he  has  given  no  uncertain 
sound  touching  the  great  evil  of  intemperance.  Few  have 
done  more  for  the  poor  intemperate  man  than  our  dear 
departed  friend.  His  memory  is  very  dear.  Let  us  all 
"remember  the  words  he  spoke  while  he  was  yet  with  us." 
And  may  we  be  taught  so  to  number  our  days  that  we  may 
also  apply  our  hearts  unto  wisdom. 

Remarks  of  Rev.  A.  Parke  Burgess  at  the  funeral  of  Rev.  11.  Eaton, 
D.D. 

.  .  .  With  you  all  I  am  here  as  a  mourner.  ...  I  am  to 
speak  in  behalf  of  L3^ons  Presbytery.  Since  Dr.  Eaton  has 
been  called  out  of  it,  I  am  forcibly  reminded  that  I  am  now 
the  senior  member,  —  oldest,  in  the  ranks  and  in  active  ser- 
vice, of  all  who  are  left.  So,  in  behalf  of  my  brothers,  I  place 
a  tribute  of  affection  and  veneration  on  the  casket  of  our 
loved  father,  the  patriarch  of  our  churches.  It  has  been  well 
asked,  "  What  will  Lyons  Presbytery  do  without  him  ?  "  For 
years  he  has  presented  reports  upon  home  missions  and 
Auburn  Seminary,^  such  as,  for  scope  and  mention  and  happy 


1  From  his  last  Report  on  Auburn  Theological  Seminary  (1883).  .  .  . 
Thirty-five  years  ago  I  was  invited  to  this  more  favored  i)ortion  of  the  prom- 
ised land.  Then  I  joined  the  company  of  those  wlio  went  up  to  their  yearly 
festival  at  their  AVestern  New  York  Jerusalem.  Tlie  place,  so  "beautiful  for 
situation,"  the  reception  so  cordial,  the  communion  so  fraternal,  soon  assured 
me  that  I  was  not  an  alien,  but  "a  fellow-citizen  of  the  saints";  and  the 
memories  that  twined  around  another  seminary  were  charmed  away,  and  fixed 
upon  the  school  of  my  adoption.  At  my  first  visit,  Drs.  Hickok  and  Mills 
were  the  rabbis.  I  saw  the  inauguration  of  Drs.  Hall  and  Condit.  Men  die  : 
institutions  live.  New  teachers  filled  the  chairs  made  vacant.  New  man- 
sions, splendid  public  halls,  adorn  the  ground.  Auburn  has  been  favored  of 
earth  and  Heaven. 

It  is  a  pleasure  to  make  a  report  to  you  of  our  school  of  the  prophets.  .  .  . 
But  the  interest  culminates  in  the  theological  examination.  Here  we  found  no 
fractional  orthodoxy,  but  a  system  self-consistent,  and  in  substantial  agreement 


SEEING   ''HIM  AS  HE   IS."  279 

expression,  I  fear  we  shall  not  have,  now  that  he  is  gone. 
How  his  heart  warmed  and  enlarged  over  these  vast  interests 
of  the  kingdom !  Much  as  he  loved  and  brooded  over  the 
feeble  churches  here  at  home,  —  and  none  cared  for  them 
more  constantly,  —  yet  it  was  always  his  desire  to  see  our 
home  missionary  gifts,  as  largely  as  possible,  sent  beyond 
"  the  great  river,"  the  Mississippi,  for  the  work  of  God 
along  that  frontier  of  advancing  population.  Many  will 
remember  how  deeply  his  feelings  were  enlisted  in  that  Home 
Missionary  Convention  held  in  this  church  a  few  days  ago. 
How  he  enjoyed  the  whole  of  it !  And  when  he  took  by  the 
hand  that  artless,  earnest  young  woman.  Miss  Alice  W. 
Robertson,  after  her  tender  appeal  for  the  western  tribes 
among  whom  her  father  had  lived  and  died,  I  remember  how 
warmly  he  congratulated  her  upon  her  work,  and  said,  "  Oh, 
if  I  were  a  young  man  again,  how  I  would  love  to  go  and 
pour  out  my  life  on  the  great  frontier !  There  lingered  yet 
in  his  soul  the  zeal  for  missions  that  had  come  to  him  in 
youth,  in  answer  to  his  mother's  prayer.  And  the  "suppli- 
cation in  the  spirit "  which  he  offered  to  God  in  that  conven- 
tion, as  he  rose  amid  breathless  silence,  after  the  address 
upon  Texas,  by  Brother  Riggs,  his  own  son  in  the  gospel  — 
who  that  heard  it  will  ever  forget?  How  he  seized  upon 
the  very  heavens,  and  brought  them  down  by  his  faith  and 
importunity !  It  was  like  the  prayer  of  the  venerable  Dr. 
Schaufler,  at  the  American  Board  meeting  in  Syracuse  a  few 
years  ago,  when,  with  his  hands  lifted  towards  heaven,  he 
pleaded  with  God  till  it  seemed  as  though  he  reached  the  very 
summit  of  the  ladder  of  prayer,  and  laid  his  burden  at  the 
mercy-seat. 

with,  though  not  enslaved  by,  our  creed.  The  appeal  was  "  to  the  law  and 
the  testimony,"  —  everywhere  "Let  God  be  true."  There  was  no  shying  by 
distinctive,  and,  to  some,  offensive  points.  .  .  .  The  announcement  "after 
death  the  judgment,"  is  taken  as  final.  In  regard  to  the  discriminations  of  the 
future  world,  the  professor  of  theology  thinks  it  unsafe  to  be  more  merciful 
or  less  just  than  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  He  seems  to  have  no  ambition  to 
discover  another  probation  beyond  this  present  life. 

However  haze  may  linger  around  other  pinnacles,  "  sunshine  settles  on  the 
head  "  of  Auburn. 


280  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

A  secret  feeling  entered  some  hearts  that  day,  as  Dr. 
Eaton  sat  down,  that  perhaps  he  woiiUI  never  again  in  public 
give  utterance  to  such  a  pra3"er;  and  it  was  liis  last. 

In  Presbytery,  Brother  Eaton  was  universally  loved,  and 
a  favorite.  He  was  a  man  of  peace.  His  heart  was  so 
tender  and  sensitive  that  any  attrition  with  his  brethren  was 
alwa3's  too  painful  for  him.  And  yet  no  man  was  braver 
than  he  when  the  truth  was  to  be  spoken  and  the  right 
defended. 

But  he  needs  no  eulogy.  Perhaps  some  time  a  stone  may 
be  erected  to  mark  his  resting-place ;  but  he  has  already  a 
monument.  This  puljjit  is  his  monument;  and  these  pews, 
this  Sunday-school,  this  prayer-meeting,  this  church,  these 
hundreds  of  homes  where  his  voice  was  familiar  in  seasons 
of  joy  and  sorrow,  —  all  are  monuments  to  his  sacred  memory. 
"  How  beautiful  upon  the  mountains  are  the  feet  of  Him  that 
bringeth  good  tidings!  "  The  very  streets  of  Palm3'ra  are 
more  beautiful  because  he  has  trodden  tliem  so  often.  .  .  . 

As  we  gather  around  this  casket,  and  look  upon  that  loved 
face,  "  beautiful  in  death,"  we  can  again  say :  — 

"  Servant  of  God,  well  done ! 
Kcst  from  thy  loved  employ ; 
The  battle  fought,  the  victory  won, 
Enter  thy  Master's  joy." 


CHAPTER   XI. 

MEMORIAL    SEUVICE   AT    MARION.  —  MEMORIAL   SERVICE   IN 
THE    SABBATH-SCHOOL   AT   PALMYRA. 

On  Sabbath  evening,  Oct.  28,  memorial  services  were  held  at  the 
church  in  Marion,  where  Dr.  Eaton  had  ministered  for  the  last  four 
years. 

From  the  "  Marion  Enterprise  " :  — 

"  Despite  the  unfavorable  weather,  the  house  was  filled  to  its  utmost 
capacity.  The  wall,  pulpit,  and  vacant  chair  were  heavily  draped.  The 
decorations  were  emblematic  and  beautiful.  Appropriate  music  was 
rendered  by  a  select  choir.  Addresses  were  made  by  Brothers  Runyan, 
Merrill,  Kolyn,  Maxwell,  Hammond,  and  Short.  A  deep  and  touching 
interest  was  manifested  throughout.  All  present  seemed  to  join  in  the 
heartfelt  tributes  to  an  able  man,  a  remarkable  pastor,  and  a  servant 
of  the  Lord  universally  venerated  and  beloved." 

Rev.  W.  W.  Runyan  of  the  Methodist  Church  said,  — 

"  It  is  not  my  purpose  to  pronounce  a  eulogy.  I  shall  better  consult 
the  proprieties  of  the  occasion,  and  better  honor  the  memory  of  our  ven- 
erable friend  departed,  by  giving  my  estimate  and  impressions  of  him  in 
sober  and  selected  words. 

"  I  have  known  Dr.  Eaton  for  eighteen  years.  For  twelve  of  those  years 
I  admired  and  revered  him.  During  the  six  remaining  years  I  have 
admired,  revered,  and  loved  him,  because  I  knew  him  better.  Horace 
Eaton  was  no  ordinary  man.  Were  other  proofs  of  this  wanting,  his 
successful  pastorate  of  thirty  years  in  Palmyra  would  sufficiently  demon- 
strate his  intrinsic  ability  and  the  amplitude  of  his  resources.  His  nature 
was  full  and  round.  He  was  strong  at  many  points,  wise  in  many  ways, 
endowed  with  many  gifts.  He  was  genial  yet  dignified,  prudent  yet 
courageous,  polite  without  affectation,  learned  without  pedantry,  widely 
honored  and  influential,  yet  humble  in  bearing,  and  meek  in  spirit.  Open 
as  the  day,  he  yet  possessed  a  wakeful  sagacity  and  admirable  tact.  With 
the  strength  of  his  robust  manhood  was  blended  the  simplicity,  the  trans- 
parency, of  a  child.     For  my  own  part,  I  must  avow  I  never  knew  any- 


282  REV.   HORACE   EATON,   D.D. 

where,  in  any  denomination  of  Cliristians,  a  man  who  more  fully  realized 
and  exemplified  tlie  ideal  minister.  "We  all  know,  everybody  knows, 
how  nnifornily  kind,  friendly,  benignant,  he  was.  He  had  a  courteous, 
brotherly,  or  perhaps  fatherly  salutation  for  every  one.  In  this  respect, 
and  partly  for  this  reason  perhaps, 

'  None  knew  him  but  to  love  him, 
None  named  liim  but  to  praise.' 

And  this  habitual  and  unfailing  urbanity  sprang  from  the  real  goodness 
of  a  philanthropic  Christian  heart.  It  was  not  assumed  for  a  purpose  or 
an  occasion.  It  was  not  put  on.  It  was  the  spontaneous  out-put  of  a 
large  and  generous  natui-e.  It  was  the  man  himself  shining  through  and 
shining  out,  and  sometimes  it  well-nigh  transfigured  him  before  our  eyes. 
His  personal  magnetism  was  something  quite  extraordinary,  perhaps 
incredible  to  those  who  did  not  know  him  well.  I  cannot  here  attempt 
to  analyze  it,  or  account  for  it ;  but  certain  it  is  that  he  possessed  a  singu- 
lar power  of  attracting  and  attaching  men  to  himself,  and  yet  to  all  appear- 
ances was  unconscious  of  the  gift.  I  wonder  at  it  as  I  think  of  it,  now 
he  is  gone,  and  then  again  I  do  not  wonder;  for  he  was  so  good  and 
honest,  so  frank  and  friendly,  so  ingenuous,  truthful,  sterling,  —  an 
*  upright  man,'  perpendicular  by  the  Lord's  plummet. 

"  His  preaching,  especially  while  he  was  at  the  meridian  of  his  physi- 
cal powei's,  held  and  edified  all  classes  of  hearers  :  sometimes  it  electrified 
them,  or  moved  to  grateful  tears.  But  perhaps  he  pleased  best  the  most 
cultivated  and  most  spiritual  in  his  congregation.  He  was  a  master  of 
statement.  His  sentences  were  crisp,  incisive,  clean-cut,  luminous.  His 
diction  was  mainly  from  the  sturdy  old  Anglo-Saxon.  His  written  style 
was  a  model  of  chaste  elegance  and  vigor.  It  would  bear  a  microscope. 
Without  superfluities,  without  gaudy  ornaments,  it  was  as  beautiful  as 
the  gleam  of  an  angel's  wing.  Yet  style  was  never  the  end  with  him, 
but  always  a  means  to  an  end.  He  had  something  to  say,  and  he  said  it, 
knowing  exactly  how  to  say  it.  His  discourses  were  terse,  condensed, 
cumulative,  sometimes  climacteric.  They  were  richly  freighted,  too,  from 
alpha  to  omega,  from  exordium  to  peroration.  Some  speakers  hammer 
out  the  truth  into  gold-leaf :  Dr.  Eaton  gave  us  truth  in  coin,  ingots,  and 
solid  bullion.  It  is  needless  to  say  that  he  made  elaborate,  conscientious 
preparation  for  his  jiulpit-work.  Like  the  householder  of  the  gospel,  he 
brought  forth  out  of  his  treasure  things  new  and  old.  He  fed  his  flock 
with  a  careful  bounty.  From  the  storehouse  of  the  Scriptures  he  spread 
forth  the  bread  and  wine  of  the  kingdom,  and  oil  well  beaten.  The 
extent  of  his  reading  and  research  was  surprising ;  yet  his  vast  wealth  of 
materials  did  not  confuse  or  embarrass  him;  for  it  was  fused,  refined,  and 


MEMORIAL   SERVICES.  283 

recast  in  the  crucible  of  his  own  meditations.  I  found  it  a  treat,  often  a 
benediction,  to  listen  to  him,  and  could  but  admire  his  robust  integrity 
as  a  thinker.  Perhaps  he  sometimes  packed  too  much  thought  into  a 
discourse  for  the  average  congregation.  If  so,  it  was  a  fault  in  the  right 
direction,  and  one  that  intelligent  hearers  easily  forgive.  Would  that 
l^reachers  in  these  days  were  more  generally  guilty  of  it !  They  should 
trust  the  people  more,  honor  the  intelligence  of  the  people  more.  The 
masses  of  men  crave  the  truth,  hunger  and  thirst  and  inwardly  pant  for 
the  truth.  They  know  they  are  rushing  onward  to  the  grave,  and  they 
will  drink  in  whole  Niagaras  of  truth  when  they  can  get  it,  —  the  living 
truth  of  God ;  for  oh  the  soul  of  the  people  is  parched  and  faint,  and  all 
athirst  for  living  water  from  the  Everlasting  Fountain. 

"The  doctor's  occasional  contributions  to  the  weekly  press  were  gems 
of  their  kind,  and  I  made  it  a  pomt  to  read  whatever  came  from  his  pen 
in  that  line. 

"I  must  not  omit  to  say  that  Dr.  Eaton  was  a  pronounced  and 
imswerving  advocate  of  the  temperance  cause  under  circumstances  of 
peculiar  difficulty.  He  rebuked  the  manufacture  and  sale  of  intoxicating 
drinks  with  the  fire  and  vehemence  of  an  ancient  Hebrew  propliet,  and 
he  did  so  in  public  and  in  private,  and  in  social  circles  ;  but  he  ever 
spoke  the  truth  in  love.  He  held  aloft  the  temperance  standard,  and 
held  it  high,  with  full  knowledge  that  his  course  would  rouse  bitter 
hostility.  He  saw  the  difficulties  of  his  position  —  saw  them  plainly. 
He  felt  the  trial — felt  it  keenly.  But  he  would  not  falter,  would  not 
compromise  the  truth,  would  not  lower  the  standard  an  iota  or  a  tittle. 
He  deliberately  and  dispassionately  resolved  to  act  on  principle,  be  the 
consequences  to  himself  what  they  might.  Said  he  in  my  hearing,  '  Let 
us  do  our  duty  in  this  matter  without  regarding  consequences.  Conse- 
quences belong  to  Ck)d.'  Is  he  sorry  now  ?  Could  he  have  lived  long 
enough,  his  voice  would  have  been  heard  again  and  again,  ringing  high 
and  clear  in  the  din  of  the  great  conflict  which  is  fast  coming  in  this 
land.  But  the  INIaster  saw  fit  to  take  him  a^ay  from  the  ti'oubles  of  this 
present  evil  world.  He  had  done  enough,  and  had  done  it  well.  Yea, 
verily,  his  was  a  fine  courage.  Underneath  the  lamblike  gentleness  of  the 
man  there  throbbed  a  lion-heart.  The  heroic  and  chivalric  were  cardinal 
elements  in  his  make-up. 

"  But,  though  Dr.  Eaton  was  a  man  with  positive  convictions  and  a 
marked  individuality,  he  was  not  a  man  of  one  idea  or  a  solitary  hobby, 
mentally  warped  or  intellectually  deformed.  Xo.  He  was  symmetry 
itself  embodied.  He  was  cognizant  of  many  relations  to  society  and  the 
world.  His  sympathies  were  wide,  and  his  sensibilities  keen.-  He 
projected  feelers  and  feeders  in  all  directions.  His  nature  was  many- 
sided,  as  the  Germans  say,  and  it  was  receptive  on  all  sides.     Travel  and 


284  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

observation  had  made  him  a  cosmopolitan,  a  citizen  of  the  globe,  in  his 
range  of  tlioiiglit.  He  loved  science,  poetry,  and  art.  He  loved  to  trace 
the  hand  of  God  in  current  history.  He  loved  little  children.  'Behold, 
how  he  loved  them ! '  He  loved  the  birds,  the  lilies,  the  mountains,  the 
deep,  deep  sea,  and,  next  to  the  cross  of  Christ,  the  flag  of  his  native 
land.  .  .  . 

"  He  threw  the  arms  of  a  loving,  humble  faith  around  the  cross  of 
Christ.  To  lift  up  that  cross  befoi'e  the  eyes  of  dying  men  was  the  holy 
purpose  and  the  best  achievement  of  his  useful  life.  He  turned  many 
to  righteousness,  and  doubtless  he  will  shine  as  a  star  for  ever  and  ever. 

"It  is  among  the  precious  treasures  of  my  life  that  I  have  known  this 
good  man,  and  may  remember  him  as  a  counselor  and  friend.  To  me 
it  was  like  sunrise  to  meet  him  on  the  street,  like  the  smile  of  a  benignant 
Providence  to  see  his  face,  and  share  his  converse  in  the  privacy  of  his 
library,  which  he  playfully  called  his  '  den.'  But  none  of  us  can 
monopolize  him.  All  good  citizens  can  claim  a  share  in  Dr.  Eaton,  for 
he  was  the  friend  of  all.  No  denominational  barriers  can  bound  his 
fame.  No  sectarian  channel  can  confine  the  rolling  river  of  his  influ- 
ence, for  ecclesiastical  bars  could  not  limit  his  charity,  his  services,  his 
benefactions,  or  his  friendships.     The  memory  of  the  just  is  blessed. 

"  Dr.  Eaton  had  laid  up  much  treasure  in  heaven,  and  now  he  has 
gone  to  possess  it.  From  that  eminence,  I  doubt  not,  he  will  continue 
to  contemplate  the  drama  of  time,  which  while  here  he  watched  with  so 
much  interest.  From  that  elevation  he  will  gaze  upon  the  angel  having 
the  everlasting  gospel  as  he  flies  from  sea  to  sea  and  from  the  river  to 
the  ends  of  the  earth.  From  that  happy  seat  he  will  by  and  by  hear  the 
Sabbath  chimes  and  mission-bells  while  they  peal  forth  one  continuous 
triumph  round  a  world  redeemed.  .  .  .  Prince  in  Israel,  farewell. 
Farewell,  loved  and  cherished  friend.  Thrice  honored  be  tliy  grave 
among  the  graves  of  the  good.  Thrice  happy  be  thy  spirit  among  the 
spirits  of  the  blest." 

A  memorial  service  was  held  in  the  Sabbath-school  at  Palmyra  on 
the  Sabbath  following  Dr.  Eaton's  funeral,  under  the  lead  of  jNIr.  Lucius 
II.  Foster,  superintendent.  We  give  some  of  the  thoughts  of  the 
speakers.  Rev.  W.  II.  Landon,  the  pastor,  addressed  the  younger 
scholars,  and  related  some  incidents  in  Dr.  Eaton's  childhood  and 
youth. 

Remarks  of  Deacon  ^I.  B.  Riggs  :  — 

"  Dr.  Eaton  went  home  one  week  ago  this  morning.  Blessed  man ! 
Dear  old  pastor!  We  know  your  humble  soul  was  surprised  at  the 
height  of  your  place  in  heaven.     When  Dorcas  died,  they  showed  Peter 


MEMORIAL   SERVICES.  285 

the  coats  and  garments  which  she  had  made.  The  importance  of  her 
life  to  the  living  was  thus  vividly  portrayed  to  Peter ;  anii  the  picture 
led  him  to  kneel,  to  pray,  and  to  exclaim,  '  Tabitha,  arise !  and  she  sat 
up.'  "With  such  a  notable  example  before  us,  may  not  we  appi'oiiriately 
and  profitably  exhibit  a  few  coats  and  garments  which  our  late  pastor 
made  for  us  as  a  church  ?  Although  we  may  not  expect  him  to  be 
presented  to  us  alive,  will  not  the  review  aid  us  in  estimating  his  char- 
acter, the  value  of  his  life,  and  enforce  the  example  which  he  has  set  for 
us,  the  precepts  he  has  left,  and  help  to  perpetuate  his  influence  upon  us 
and  upon  the  community  ? 

"  At  his  suggestion,  several  young  men  undertook  to  surround  the 
church  with  trees.  Most  of  them  were  recent  converts,  students  in  our 
school,  and  at  that  time  had  the  ministry  in  view.  They  repaired  to  the 
woods  and  selected  fine,  vigorous  saplings.  Dr.  Eaton  w^as  present  at 
this  tree-planting,i  and  the  beautiful  maple  near  the  south-east  corner 
of  our  church  was  set  out  by  his  own  hands.  He  was  upon  his  knees 
while  he  did  the  work.  Many  a  time  has  he  been  on  his  knees  before 
our  heavenly  Father,  pleading  earnestly  that  we  might  be  planted  and 
rooted  in  the  faith  of  the  Bible.  Many  of  the  sturdy  pillars  of  our 
church  were  planted  and  watered  by  him ;  ay,  and  have  not  his  teach- 
ings enhanced  the  spiritual  growth  of  us  all?  Let  us  never  pass  that 
tree  without  recalling  to  mind  the  one  who  planted  it,  and  his  prayers  on 
bended  knee  for  us. 

"  When  we  needed  a  lecture-room,  it  was  Dr.  Eaton  who  solicited  and 
obtained  the  funds  necessary  for  the  work  ;  and  the  money  which  paid  for 
the  spacious  and  substantial  pavement  in  front  of  our  church  was  raised 
by  him.  When  we  needed  shelter  for  our  teams,  he  was  instrumental  in 
effecting  the  very  judicious  purchase  of  the  grounds  where  our  sheds  now 
stand.  When  our  house  of  worship  required  modernizing  and  enlarge- 
ment, his  necessary  and  untiring  services  were  cheerfully  rendered  to 
assist  in  providing  funds ;  and  so  was  it  when  the  money  was  contributed 
to  pay  for  our  melodious  and  beautiful  organ. 

"  But  among  the  many  efficient  and  earnest  efforts  of  our  late  pastor 
to  promote  the  welfare  and  prosperity  of  our  congregation,  perhaps  none 
more  clearly  exhibited  his  thorough  unselfishness  and  his  earnest  zeal 
than  what  he  did  towards  securing  to  us  a  parsonage,  and  making  it 
available  for  his  successor.  He  did  not  expect  to  occupy  it,  or  that  his 
family  would  do  so,  yet  that  did  not  stay  his  efforts ;  but,  Samuel-like, 
the  same  cheerful  service  was  as  freely  rendered  as  that  which  he  gave 
before  his  resignation. 

1  Dr.  Eaton  used  laughingly  to  call  the  trees  around  the  church  his 
"  vegetable  children." 


286  REV.  HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

"  But  greater  things  than  these  has  he  done  for  us.  He  "svas  our  spir- 
itual teacher.  We  have  all  i^artaken  of  the  heavenly  manna  with  which 
he  fed  us,  and  although  we  may  have  eaten  it  as  we  did  our  daily  bread, 
without  realizing  that  it  was  aliment  as  necessary  to  our  spiritual  growth 
as  the  staff  of  life  to  our  bodies,  yet  results  show  its  importance.  Dur- 
ing his  pastorate  here,  some  fourteen  have  gone  out  to  proclaim  the  gos- 
pel message,  —  some  in  our  own  and  some  in  foreign  lands.  Others  beside 
these  fourteen  commenced  preparation  for  the  gospel  ministry,  but  were 
oblif'-ed,  by  ill-health  and  other  reasons,  to  abandon  it. 

"  He  was  the  pioneer  and  faithful  supporter  of  a  ministers'  Monday- 
morning  Prayer  and  Conference  Meeting,  which  has  doubtless  been  an 
important  factor  in  securing  the  very  cordial  relations  which  have  ever 
existed  between  the  several  churches  of  our  village.  Dr.  Eaton  has  been 
laying  foundations  as  imperishable  as  adamant.  God  grant  that  we  may 
be  worthy  sons  and  daughters  of  such  a  father,  and  may  our  last  end  be 
like  his !  " 

Samuel  B.  McIntyre,  Esq.,  spoke  in  substance  as  follows:  — 

"  To  us  among  whom  he  walked.  Dr.  Eaton  did  not  seem  to  be  occu- 
pying any  commanding  position.  Yet  the  brilliant  names  of  orators, 
soldiers,  authors,  and  statesmen  of  the  present,  will  gradually  fade  away, 
while  the  name  of  Dr.  Eaton  for  long  years  will  be  held  in  loving 
remembrance,  and  be  a  very  household  word,  not  only  in  this  community, 
but  in  the  hearts  of  many  scattered  over  this  nation  and  in  foreign  lands. 
Other  lives  may  now  seem  splendid  in  comparison  with  his  ;  but  his  life 
and  examjile  will  always  remain  in  sight,  like  the  star  which  steadily 
shines  on  in  its  serene  height,  while  the  meteor-flashes  have  disappeared 
in  the  darkness  they  have  but  temporarily  illumined. 

"lie  was  humble.  He  sought  no  fame.  He  perfectly  expressed  in 
his  pure  and  crystalline  character  and  life  what  is  most  precious  and 
pure  in  any  character  and  life, — Christian  love  and  charity.  We  can- 
not rightly  understand  such  lives,  unless  we  take  them  as  a  whole,  unless 
we  enter  in  some  measure  into  sympathy  with  them,  and  thus  are  able  to 
comprehend  the  secret  springs,  motives,  and  pui-poses  that  ennobled 
them.  How  much  like  Paul  was  Dr.  Eaton !  It  was  because  of  this 
sympathy  that  Dr.  Eaton  so  loved  Paul.  And  when  we  fully  sympathize 
•with  such  a  life  as  that  of  our  departed  pastor,  then  will  we  begin  also 
to  realize  as  he  did  the  idea  of  a  living,  active,  personal  Saviour,  full  of 
power,  but  also  full  of  simplicity,  kindness,  and  love.  Tluis  will  our 
souls  be  dilated  and  remodeled,  and  our  hearts  filled  with  a  perpetual 
fountain  of  joy.  But  is  not  his  life  a  terrible  rebuke  to  those  of  us  who 
have  doubted  the  possibility  of  exercising  the  faith  required  of  a  true 
servant  of  the  Lord?  — to  those  who  have  halted  at  the  promises,  and 


MEMORIAL   SERVICES.  287 

have  felt  that  they  were  true  only  in  a  certain  spiritualized  sense,  and 
have  never  realized  their  fulness,  power,  and  richness?  To  those  of 
us  who  have  not  dared  to  follow  Christ  as  our  exemplar  in  all  things 
and  at  all  times,  from  a  fear,  perhaps  belief,  that  it  was  not  in  human 
nature  to  obey  the  command  to  '  take  up  our  cross  daily,  and  follow 
Him,  with  what  force  of  i^ebuke  comes  this  life,  that  has  before  our  eyes, 
for  over  thirty  years,  been  acting  out  the  possibility,  nay,  the  reality,  of 
so  living,  resolving  all  doubts  hy  the  fact !  Here  has  been  one  to  whom 
all  could  point  and  say,  '  Behold  an  Israelite  indeed,  in  whom  thei'e  is  no 
guile.' 

"I  have  been  asked  to  refer  to  the  mental  characteristics  of  Dr. 
Eaton.  I  find  it  impossible  to  analyze  and  detach  any  portion  of  his 
mental  from  his  religious  life.  As  the  component  colors  of  God's 
sunlight  are  so  blended  together  into  a  pure  white  radiance,  that  the 
unaided  human  eye  cannot  resolve  them  into  their  different  shades,  so 
the  religious  and  mental  characteristics  of  our  dear  friend  were  closely 
interwoven,  and  I  have  no  prism  with  which  to  separate  them.  They 
all  together  went  to  make  the  man.  ...  It  is  impossible  to  point  out  in 
the  whole  range  of  my  acquaintance  one  who  was  so  simple  and  yet  so 
grand.  One  could  not  but  involuntarily  compare  him  to  a  block  of 
granite  hewn  from  the  adamantine  hills  of  his  native  State,  strong,  firm, 
sturdy,  solid,  yet  shaped  and  polished  by  divine  grace  and  intellectual 
culture;  and  so  he  stood,  simple  in  his  grandeur,  and  grand  in  his 
simplicity.  I  wondered  in  my  younger  days  at  this  peculiar  union  of 
seemingly  contradictory  characteristics,  but  came  fully  to  understand 
it  later  in  life.  All  recollect  his  great  love  for  the  strong,  solid,  and  real 
in  every  thing,  and  his  aversion  to  all  shams.  He  was  an  ardent  lover 
of  animal  and  physical  nature.  To  his  kitten  and  horse  he  talked  as  to 
friends.  He  was  not  'looking  through  Nature  up  to  Nature's  God,' 
but  'saw  God  in  every  thing.' 

"  Whatever  came  under  his  observation,  at  home  cr  abroad,  became 
to  him  vivid  in  significance,  and  rich  in  suggestion  of  moral  fact  or 
religious  doctrine.  .  .  . 

"  In  many  particulars  there  were  points  of  harmony  between  Dr.  Eaton 
and  my  deceased  father.^  There  was  the  same  love  of  the  strong  and  the 
solid,  the  same  love  of  Nature.  They  early  became  friends ;  and  it  was 
no  wonder  they  were  friends,  for  Dr.  Eaton  was  the  friend  of  every  one. 
And  when  they  meet  above,  as  I  believe  they  will,  my  father  will  be  one 
among  the  many  who  will  say  to  him,  '  It  is  owing  to  your  words,  your 
life,  and  your  example,  that  I  am  here.' " 

^  Alexander  Mclntyre,  M.D.,  of  Palmyra,  N.Y. 


288  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

Remarks  of  Henry  R.  Durfee,  Esq. 

"  When  the  elders  of  Ephesus  went  down  to  Miletus  for  what  proved 
to  be  their  farewell  interview  witli  Paul,  at  the  close  of  that  most  affect- 
ing scene,  it  is  related  that  'they  all  wept  sore  .  .  .  sorrowing  most  of 
all  for  the  words  which  he  spake,  tliat  tliey  should  see  his  face  no  more.' 
The  apostle  liad  spoken  to  them  of  the  dangers  and  trials  which  they 
were  to  encounter  ;  but  it  was  not  of  these  that  they  thought  as  tliey  said 
farewell. 

"It  was  their  sense  of  personal  loss  which  filled  their  eyes  with  tears 
as  they  realized  that  the  loved  presence  of  their  friend  and  teacher  would 
shortly  disappear  from  their  sight  forever. 

"  And  so  it  is  with  us  as  we  gather  here  to  make  some  expression  of 
our  grief  at  the  loss  of  our  friend  and  teacher.  It  is  our  loss  that  we 
lament  to-day.  For  him,  to  die  is  gain.  In  this  assemblage  it  is  not 
so  much  the  man  of  mark,  of  wide  influence,  of  high  attainments,  fitted 
worthily  to  bear  the  title  of  '  doctor  of  divinity,'  as  it  is  our  friend, 
endeared  to  us  by  long  acquaintance  and  companionship,  Avhom  we 
mourn.  And  I  think  that  the  personal  qualities  and  traits  which 
attracted  us,  and  gained  him  our  affection,  are  at  this  time  uppermost 
in  all  our  minds. 

"  In  recalling  the  personal  characteristics  of  our  dear  friend  and  pastor, 
it  has  seemed  to  me  that  one  of  the  most  marked  was  his  constant  and 
abomiding  cheerfidness.  There  was  nothing  lugubrious  or  forbidding 
about  his  piety  or  his  presence ;  but  they  shone  with  the  gladsome  light 
and  warmth  of  the  sunshine  wherever  he  went,  whether  it  were  to  the 
house  of  feasting,  or  to  the  chamber  of  the  sick  and  the  house  of  mourn- 
ing. Neither  his  familiarity  with  the  sorrows  of  his  wide  circle  of 
friends  and  parishioners,  nor  his  personal  and  private  griefs  and  disap- 
pointments, seemed  able  permanently  to  depress  his  spirits.  This  arose, 
not  from  cynical  indifference,  or  stoical  fortitude,  —  for  none  was  more 
sympathetic,  compassionate,  and  tender-hearted  than  he, — but  from  the 
dejith  and  serenity  of  his  faith. 

"  Having  that  hope  which  is  '  an  anchor  to  the  soul,  both  sure  and 
steadfast,'  and  an  implicit  trust  in  the  wisdom  and  goodness  of  our 
heavenly  Father,  his  elastic  and  sanguine  temi^erament  rose  above  all 
the  gloom  which  obscured  the  way  into  the  pure  sunlight  of  the  divine 
love. 

"  Another  characteristic  was  his  keen  perception  and  love  of  the  sub- 
lime and  beautiful.  His  was  the  true  poetic  soul,  to  which  '  a  thing  of 
beauty  is  a  joy  forever.'  Whether  he  listened  to  the  giant  harp  of  the 
wind-swept  woods,  the  'breezy  call  of  incense-breathing  morn,'  the  songs 
of  the  birds,  the  pealing  thunder,  or  the  deep  diapason  of  the  sea,  his  ear 


MEMORIAL    SERVICES.  2S9 

was  attuned  to  all  their  harmonies.  And,  in  driving  \vith  him  about  the 
country,  I  have  frequently  noticed  how  quick  he  was  to  observe  the  vary-  ' 
ing  beauties  of  the  landscape,  and  to  note  the  changing  forms  and  colors 
of  "the  clouds,  and  the  fields  and  flowers  and  foliage  on  our  way.  He 
recognized  with  reverent  delight  the  voice  of  the  Great  Creator  in  every 
harn°ony  of  wind  or  wave,  and  His  creative  hand  in  every  perfect  form 
or  tint  of  earth  or  sky. 

"We  who  have  listened  to  his  preaching  cannot  fail  to  remember 
with  what  a  skilful  touch,  and  with  what  a  glow  of  enthusiasm,  he  pre- 
sented to  us  the  pictures  in  which  the  Master  is  the  central  figure,  and 
described  the  grassy  mountain-sides  and  the  sparkling  waters  of  Galilee, 
or  spoke  of  the  lilies  of  the  field,  the  great  oaks  of  Bashan,  and  the  tall 
cedars  of  Lebanon. 

"  And  as  in  Nature,  so  also  in  literature  and  art,  whatever  was  grand 
and  beautiful  found  in  him  an  appreciative  and  enthusiastic  admirer. 

"  Nor  was  this  refined,  aesthetic  taste  and  perception  at  all  allied  to 
weakness.  On  the  contrary,  he  had  in  his  character  not  a  little  of  the 
granite  of  his  native  hills.  Gentle  and  affable  and  kindly  as  he  was,  no 
man  ever  knew  him  to  flinch  where  a  principle  was  involved,  or,  from 
fear  of  personal  sacrifice  or  discomfort,  to  shrink  from  an  arduous 
undertaking. 

"  A  little  incident  which  I  witnessed  will  illustrate  this.  A  number 
of  years  ago  the  snow  fell  to  a  very  great  depth,  and  on  the  morning 
after  the  storm  ceased,  as  one  of  the  neighbors  and  myself  were  out 
shovellmg  off  the  sidewalk,  we  saw  Dr.  Eaton  coming  up  the  street,  on 
his  way  to  visit  a  sick  parishioner. 

"  The  walk  had  been  cleared  for  a  part  of  the  distance,  and,  when  he 
reached  the  end  of  the  path,  I  called  to  him  to  wait  a  few  minutes,  and 
we  would  shovel  down  to  him.  '  Oh,  no ! '  he  shouted  cheerily  back  :  '  I 
wasn't  born  in  New  Hampshire  for  nothing  ! '  And  without  more  ado  he 
plunged  waist-deep  into  the  drifted  snow,  and  lustily  struggled  through. 
"  And  so  it  was  in  all  his  work.  No  war  of  elements  or  opinions,  and 
no  obstacles,  natural  or  conventional,  could  deter  him  from  vigorously 
and  valiantly  following  the  path  in  which  he  believed  duty  called  him. 

"To  the  preaching  of  the  Word,  also,  he  brought  a  like  courage  and 
vigor,  and  robustness  of  understanding.  He  was  not  afraid  to  grapple 
with  the  great  problems  of  the  life  that  now  is  and  that  which  is  to 
come,  and\vith  the  profound  truths  of  the  Scriptures ;  and  he  brought 
to  their  consideration  a  grasp  of  mind,  and  an  intentness  and  clearness 
of  thought,  to  follow  which,  may  indeed  have  sometimes  required  a 
severe  intellectual  exercise  on  the  part  of  his  hearers,  but  which  was 
most  truly  edifying  to  thoughtful  minds.      And  yet  I  think  he  loved 


290  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

especially  to  dwell  upon  the  divine  tenderness  and  compassion,  and  to 
entreat  us  by  the  mercies  of  (iod  to  be  reconciled  to  Him. 

"Of  the  beauty  and  purity  of  his  life  and  character,  of  his  many  years 
of  faithful,  loving  labor  among  us,  of  the  influence  which  he  has  exer- 
cised and  the  good  which  he  has  done,  we  all  are  witnesses,  and  it  is 
needless  for  me  to  speak.  Much  as  we  revered,  admired,  and  loved  him 
living,  we  realize  these  things  now,  perhaps,  more  than  ever,  —  now  that 
his  life  among  us  has  ended. 

"As  I  took  my  final  look  at  the  dear,  familiar  features,  so  calm  and 
peaceful  in  their  last  sleep,  it  seemed  to  me  that  they  had  caught  a  reflec- 
tion of  the  beauty  and  the  glory  and  the  joy  of  the  saints'  rest. 

"  Well  may  we  sorrow  that  we  shall  see  his  face  no  more.  Yet  his 
teachings  and  his  life  shall  not  fail  from  our  memory.  These  shall  rest 
upon  and  remain  with  us  like  a  benediction,  —  and  an  inspiration,  also, 
—  leading  each  of  us  with  sweet  persuasion  to  a  nobler,  purer,  and  higher 
life." 


CHAPTER   XII. 

EXTRACTS  FROM  LETTERS.  —  PRESS  NOTICES.  —  RESOLU- 
TIONS. —  MURAL  TABLET.  —  ANNIVERSARY  ELEGY,  "BE- 
SIDE   HIS    GRAVE,"   OCT.    24,    1884. 

The  richest  feature  of  the  multitude  of  letters  received  from  dear 
friends,  expressive  of  esteem,  love,  and  even  reverence  for  the  departed,  is 
that  they  so  gratefully  refer  to  helpful  and  uplifting  influences  received 
from  him.     Selections  from  a  few  give  the  drift  of  many. 

From  E.  Payson  Griffin,  Esq.,  New  York  :  — 

"  For  many  years  I  have  seen  but  little  of  him,  but  I  had  not  forgotten 
him.  How  could  I  forget  him  who  had  been  the  means,  under  God,  of  my 
conversion  ?  Many  of  the  pleasantest  recollections  of  my  life  are  asso- 
ciated with  him.  ...  I  thank  God  for  bringing  me  in  contact  with  such 
a  man." 

From  William  D.  Porter,  Esq.,  treasurer  of  National  Temperance 
Society,  New  York  :  — 
"  .  .  .  I  remember  the  Thanksgiving  sermon,  November,  1845,  when 
your  husband  preached  upon  the  sinfulness  of  war.  I  recall  one  sugges- 
tive remark,  '  Volcanoes  are  the  world's  safety-valves.'  The  sermon  he 
preached  on  Sabbath  morning,  INIarch  15,  18-iG,  from  Luke  ]4::28,  led 
me,  after  a  two-hoiu's'  struggle,  to  accept  of  Christ  as  my  Saviour ;  and  I 
shall  bless  him  for  that  sermon  through  eternity.  .  .  .  The  last  time  we 
met  was  at  the  golden  wedding  of  Uncle  William  E.  Dodge,  at  Tarry- 
town,  June  21,  1870." 

From  Gen.  John  Eaton,  Washington,  D.C. :  — 

"Dear  Uncle  Horace  seemed  to  me  the  same  growing  character  from 
the  first  to  the  last  memory  I  have  of  him.  The  freshness  of  spirit  that 
attracted  me  as  a  child  he  never  lost.  He  always  had  the  same  strength 
and  firmness  joined  with  tender  sympathy  and  consideration.  His  self- 
sacrifice  knew  no  limits  when  required  by  the  Master.  He  would  do  all 
and  siiffer  all,  that  he  might  serve  Him,  and  win  souls.  I  have  before  me 
now  his  first  letter  and  his  last  to  me.  How  much  of  his  influence  upon 
me  and  our  family  they  compass  and  recall !     The  first,  yellow  with  years, 


292  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

and  torn,  was  written  Avhen  I  was  too  small  to  read  it.  He  Avas  then  in 
college,  and  engaged  in  a  struggle  for  his  education,  in  which  few  stu- 
dents would  think  of  benefiting  a  child.  The  last  bears  date  Aug.  31, 
and  was  written  a  short  time  before  his  death.  How  like  him  are  both  ! 
These  letters  especially  show  how  he  felt  the  duties  and  privileges  of  kin- 
ship. "When  did  he  ever  meet  a  relative  without  acknowledging  the  tie, 
and  without  some  effort  to  use  it  for  good  ?  In  his  first  letter,  recalling 
the  fact  that  we  were  born  in  the  same  place,  he  drops  into  a  familiar 
chat  about  stones,  mountains,  and  stars,  alike  fan)iliar  to  his  childliood 
and  mine,  and  seeks  to  impress  my  infant  mind  with  ideas  of  immor- 
tality, and  to  inspire  me  to  act,  even  in  childhood,  as  becomes  one  with 
great  possibilities  before  him.  The  characteristics  of  this  letter  pervaded 
all  his  intercourse  with  me.  He  attracted  me,  and  I  always  cherished 
the  hours  with  him  and  their  memory,  whether  we  met  amid  the  scenes 
of  youth,  or  by  the  way,  amid  the  urgency  of  events  of  advancing  manhood, 
or  at  his  home  or  at  mine.  My  mother,  long  since  sainted,  early  called 
to  leave  her  little  flock,  held  him  up  as  a  most  worthy  example.  We 
never  could  forget  him.  Besides,  he  made  himself  among  us  one  of  our 
most  welcomed  companions. 

"  Uncle's  last  letter  to  me  begins,  '  I  snatch  a  moment  to  inform  you  of 
this  red-letter  day.  Lucien  stopped  off,  and  spent  a  few  hours  with  us. 
It  was  inspiring  to  have  a  viva  voce  account  of  the  times  that  have  gone 
over  the  dear  old  spot.'  And  so,  with  the  enthusiasm  of  youth,  he  refers 
to  the  incidents  recounted  in  their  conversation  that  occui-red  at  the 
Grange  in  his  absence."  .  .  . 

From  Charles  E.\ton,  Esq.,  Toledo,  O.  :  — 

"  The  inspiration  we  received  from  Uncle  Horace  can  never  be 
repeated  from  his  lips  again.  It  can  only  be  treasured  up  in  our  memo- 
ries. His  stories  of  his  mother,  of  his  boyhood,  of  his  brothers  and 
sisters,  were  always  feasts  for  the  soul.  His  philosophy  of  life  was  ele- 
vating, purifying,  joy-giving.  How  we  shall  miss  him  at  Kimball  Ilill ! 
His  memory  could  put  in  their  proper  jilaces  in  the  field,  by  the  fireside, 
on  the  '  muster-ground,'  and  in  the  church,  all  the  actors  in  our  ancestral 
path,  and  restore  our  family  drama  with  all  its  music,  lights,  sorrows, 
and  joys.  He  knew  the  gown  and  frock  each  actor  wore;  he  knew 
their  cups  and  their  food ;  he  could  repeat  their  words,  their  speeches, 
and  their  prayers.  .  .  .  Uncle  Horace's  crown  was  humility.  He  pur- 
sued duty  every  day  with  diligence,  vigor,  and  patience.  He  never  lifted 
up  his  eyes  to  see  if  others  were  looking  at  his  achievements.  Distinc- 
tion and  display  were  banners  that  he  never  carried.  He  was  content  to 
give  all  the  wealtli  of  his  heart  and  all  the  jewels  of  his  mind  to  his  own 


LETTERS.  293 

country  parish.  His  pen  was  terse  and  strong,  and  when  it  touched 
Nature,  it  was  as  beautiful  as  Nature  itseK.  In  his  private  letters  and 
public  discoiu'ses  there  are  pictures  as  brilliant  as  an  autumn  leaf,  as 
fragrant  as  a  Mayflower,  and  as  musical  as  the  brooks.  Nature  refreshed 
him.  He  loved  to  climb  all  her  hills  and  mountains.  The  birds  were 
his  delight :  the  bobolink  and  the  thrush  were  his  joy.  I  can  see  liim 
now  as  he  would  pause  to  listen  to  their  melodies.  He  noticed  the  wild 
flowers.  There  was  a  charm  to  him  even  in  the  dull  blossom  of  the 
elecampane.  His  love  of  kindred  was  an  intense  flame  that  never  flick- 
ered. No  son  who  loves  his  mother  as  uncle  loved  his  can  ever  wander 
far  in  a  bad  path."  •  .  . 

From  Rev.  George  H.  Griffin,  MiKord,  Conn. :  — 

"  I  desire  to  lay  my  humble  tribute  on  the  bier  of  this  beloved  friend. 
My  earliest  recollections  of  a  minister  are  associated  with  him.  ...  I 
remember  the  strong  impression  he  made  upon  my  boyish  mind  by  the 
deep  earnestness  and  evident  sincerity  of  his  manner  in  the  pulpit.  His 
love  for  the  children  was  manifested  by  the  time  (on  Saturday  afternoons) 
he  gave  to  our  catechism  class ;  coming  in,  I  believe,  at  the  close  of  the 
hour  to  hear  us  repeat  the  answers,  on  which  good  old  ^lother  Dodge 
(whose  son,  AVilliam  E.  Dodge,  was  superintendent  of  the  Sunday-school) 
had  been  drilling  us.  ...  I  think  I  can  truly  say  that  I  owe  it,  as  far  as 
pastoral  influence  was  concerned  (aiding  and  supplementing  the  home 
training  of  pious  parents),  quite  as  much  to  this  departed  friend  as  to  any 
other  that  I  am  to-day  serving  God  in  the  ministry  of  His  Son."  .  .  . 

From  Henry  M.  Baird,  D.D.,  Professor  in  N.Y.  University  :  — 

"Nov.  9,  1883. 
"...  I  have  ever  cherished,  and  shall  ever  cherish,  the  deepest  regard 
and  affection  for  your  husband,  to  whose  faithful  ministry  in  the  days 
of  my  boyhood  I  owe  so  much.  I  remember  well  his  earnest,  spiritual 
preaching,  full  of  stimulating  truth,  and  having  but  one  end,  —  that  of 
bringing  souls  unto  Chi-ist.  I  myself  received  from  it  my  first  strong 
convictions  of  sin  and  duty,  and  T  shall  ever  bless  God  for  having  enjoyed 
the  privileges  of  so  long  sitting  at  his  feet."  .  .  . 

From  Kev.  Dr.  Theodore  F.  White,  Sunnnit,  N.J. :  — 

"...  How  much  I  loved  him  you  know,  or,  rather,  you  do  not  know. 
His  death  brings  up  afresh  precious  memories  of  past  days.  I  remember 
him  as  a  theological  student,  as  the  young  pastor  of  the  Sixth-street 
Church.  I  recall  his  visits  at  our  home  and  consultations  with  my  father. 
T  can  never  forget  the  seasons  of  spiritual  blessing  in  that  church,  —  least 
of  all  that  time  when  I  was  led  to  Jesus,  and  all  my  struggles,  my  dark- 


294  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

ness,  and  my  light,  and  how  faithful  he  was  towai'd  me.  Oh,  how  many 
things  come  up  more  and  faster  than  I  can  write  !  And  then  the  separa- 
tion, the  long  pastorate  at  Palmyra,  the  delightful  meetings,  though  so 
few  and  far  between,  and  yet  all  along  the  feeling  that  he  was  to  me  the 
dearest  man  in  the  Synod."  .  .  . 

From  Kev.  IIexry  T.  Perry,  Sivas,  Turkey:  — 

"...  I  can  never  forget  the  great  kindness  shown  by  your  husband 
to  me  when  I  was  sent  as  a  colporteur  on  the  Erie  Canal,  in  the  vicinity 
of  your  beautiful  town.  The  work  presented  many  obstacles,  espe- 
cially to  one  so  inexperienced  in  Christian  endeavor  as  I  then  was. 
His  cheerful  question,  'Well,  what  have  you  gleaned  to-day?'  often 
turned  my  discouragement  into  joy  and  hope.  I  have  carefully  pre- 
served the  copy  of  the  sermon  which  he  preached  at  my  ordination  at 
North  Adams,  Mass.,  in  December,  1805,  and  have  often  read  it  in  remem- 
brance of  him.  '  And  fill  up  that  which  is  behind  of  the  sufferings  of 
Christ,' — not  to  add  any  thing  to  the  meritorious  work  of  the  crucified 
Redeemer,  but  to  join  Him  in  the  spirit  of  self-denial  for  others,  effectu- 
ally to  reach  the  wicked  by  sympathy,  and  glorify  God  by  maldng  known 
to  the  world  a  suffering  Saviour." 

From  Rev.  E.  Wilmot  Cummixgs,  Elba,  N.Y. :  — 

"...  ]\Ionday  evening  I  was  at  Horace  Deming's.  "We  did  not  then 
know  of  Dr.  Eaton's  death,  but  were  hoping  he  might  recover.  Horace 
said  he  could  never  think  of  Dr.  Eaton  as  an  old  man  :  he  always  seemed 
young  to  him.  It  was  so  in  my  case.  I  often  feared  that  I  had  been  too 
familiar ;  but  while  with  him  he  appeared  as  '  one  of  lis.'  I  could  not 
help  it." 

IN   MEMORIAM. 

****** 
For  truth  and  right  lie  stood, 

Firm  as  his  native  liills, 
Whose  rock-ribbed  grandeur  well  he  loved. 

As  sj)ortive  as  their  rills. 

Intemperance  and  crime, 

Twin  source  of  lunnan  woe, 
Stirred  his  compassion  and  his  ire, 

His  pity,  and  his  blow. 

Chosen  of  God  was  he, 

And  fitted  for  his  place 
Within  tiie  church  ;  a  pillar  strong. 

Ornate  with  trutli  and  grace. 


PRESS  NOTICES.  295 

A  living,  polislied  stone, 

From  out  lier  wall  he  cried, 
Rejoicing  in  the  gospel  truth 

That  Christ  the  Lord  has  died. 

C.  B.  BoTsroKD. 


PRESS    NOTICES. 


From  Rev.  John  Q.  Adams,  San  Francisco,  Cal.,  in  the  "New  York 
Evangelist " :  — 

"  The  sad  news  has  just  reached  us  that  another  of  the  honored  stan- 
dard-bearers in  the  Presbyterian  Church  has  gone  home.  It  hardly  seems 
possible  that  our  Dr.  Eaton  has  gone.  But,  like  a  shock  of  corn  fully 
ripe,  he  has  been  gathered  in.  Again  earth  seems  poorer,  and  heaven 
richer. 

"  It  will  doubtless  be  given  to  other  hands  to  tell  the  story  of  his  life 
and  work,  —  one  of  the  most  interesting  of  which  we  have  ever  known. 
But,  as  one  of  the  young  men  who  knew  and  loved  him  well,  I  would  add 
a  few  words  to  the  many  that  will  be  spoken. 

"  Dr.  Eaton  is  associated  with  some  of  my  earliest  recollections.  My 
first  visit  made  away  from  my  father's  house  was  in  the  family  of  which 
he  was  the  honored  head,  and  often  since  has  that  home  welcomed  the 
boy  and  man.  What  he  was  there,  what  he  was  in  the  church  of  God, 
and  in  the  families  of  his  flock,  God  knoweth,  but  no  man  can  tell.  As 
a  husband  and  father,  a  j)astor  and  friend,  woi'ds  seem  cold  when  applied 
to  him. 

"  Of  only  one  characteristic  would  I  speak  now,  one  of  the  first  and 
most  abiding  his  personal  presence  impressed  upon  me.  He  was  an  irule- 
fatigahle  worker  for  his  Lord  ami  Saviour.  Possessed  of  a  strong  consti- 
tution, he  did  not  know  what  it  was  to  give  up  any  woiHv  set  him  to  do 
till  it  was  finished.  This  was  illustrated  in  his  study  all  his  life.  He 
was  a  scholar  even  to  old  age,  devoting  much  time  to  his  Greek  and 
Hebrew,  while  keeping  abreast  with  current  thought  —  and  all  that  he 
might  be  more  efficient  in  his  work  for  God.  Dartmouth  College,  his 
alma  mater,  honored  herself  as  truly  as  she  honored  him,  when  at  her 
centennial  in  1869  she  made  him  a  doctor  of  divinity.  If  the  ministry 
generally  would  show  equal  diligence  in  this  direction,  so  far  as  strength 
and  means  will  allow,  there  would  be  fewer  complaints  that  the  young 
men  were  crowding  out  the  old,  or  that  some  one  had  crossed  the 
'  dead  line.'  .  .  . 

"  It  ought  not  to  be  forgotten  that  he  always  was  a  kind,  loving,  sym- 


296  REV.   HORACE   EATON,   D.D. 

pathetic  friend  of  young  men.     Many  a  young  man  in  the  ministry  will 
feel  a  personal  loss  when  they  know  that  he  has  fallen  asleep. 

" '  Servant  of  God,  well  done ! 
Rest  from  thy  loved  employ ; 
The  battle  fought,  the  victory  won, 
Enter  thy  Master's  joy.'  " 


From  "  The  Corning  Democrat "  :  — 

"Rev.  Dr.  Bacon  closed  his  discourse  last  Sunday  morning  with  an 
extended  tribute  to  the  character  and  life  of  the  late  Dr.  Eaton,  for  thirty 
years  pastor  of  the  Presbyterian  Church,  Palmyra,  N.Y.  Dr.  Eaton  was 
well  known  to  many  of  our  citizens,  his  intimate  and  pleasant  relations 
\vith  the  families  of  Hon.  C.  C.  B.  Walker  and  lion.  S.  T.  Ilayt  having 
been  the  occasion  of  his  frequent  visits  to  our  town.  Now  the  joyful  pur- 
pose of  his  coming  would  be  to  pronounce  a  benediction  upon  a  union  of 
hearts  and  hands,  and  now  it  would  be  to  weep  with  those  who  wept,  in 
a  solemn  burial-service  for  their  beloved  dead. 

'•  We  make  the  following  extract  from  the  sermon  referred  to  above  :  — 

"'.  .  .  He  was  the  personal  friend  of  everyone  of  his  people.  The 
old  and  the  young,  the  rich  and  the  poor,  were  all  alike  to  him ;  for  the 
facts  of  manhood,  rather  than  the  accidents  of  life,  were  the  standard  by 
which  he  nieasured  the  value  of  a  human  soul. 

" '  Dr.  Eaton  was  a  preacher  who  was  always  interesting ;  for  he  had 
the  happy  art  of  "putting  things,"  always  expressing  his  thoughts  with 
vigor  and  originality.  And  with  the  unfailing  sympathy  of  his  great, 
loving  heart,  the  helpfulness  of  his  willing  hands,  and  his  hopefulness  for 
the  best  things  in  human  nature,  he  was  in  every  regard  a  model  pastor. 
His  heart  was  always  bubbling  over  with  the  practical  expression  of  kind- 
ness and  good  will.  He  was  himself  the  best  illustration  of  the  princi- 
ples which  he  preached,  and  the  duties  which  he  enjoined. 

" '  He  always  took  a  deep  interest  in  the  young,  and  especially  in  young 
men  He  has  lielped  many  a  young  man  to  decide  the  question  of  his 
life-work,  when  sound  advice  was  the  supreme  need  of  the  hour.  It  was 
under  his  wise  instruction  and  judicious  counsel  that  T,  when  a  young 
man,  was  brought  into  the  fellowship  of  the  Christian  Church.  And 
through  sucji  personal  and  prayerful  interest  as  a  father  might  take  in 
the  welfare  of  his  son,  I  was  led  to  reconsider  the  question  as  to  what  pro- 
fession I  should  choose ;  and  I  have  no  doubt  that  I  am  your  pastor 
to-day,  because   Horace   Eaton   was  my  pastor  some  twenty-five  years 


PRESS  NOTICES.  297 

From  the  "New  York  Evangelist,"  Nov.  15,  1883  :  — 

"On  the  twenty-first  day  of  October,  1883,  the  Rev.  Horace  Eaton 
D  D  died  at  his  residence  in  Palmyra,  N.Y.  I  had  the  pleasure  m  18o7 
and  1858  to  know  and  love  him  well.  Since  that,  I  have  met  nm  trom 
time  to  time,  and  it  has  been  ray  privilege  to  continue  the  friendship  then 
beo-un  What  was  true  of  the  granite  a  quarter  of  a  century  ago  is  true  ot 
its%ssential  qualities  to-day.  The  solidity  of  Dr.  Eaton's  character  was 
such  that  once  to  know  him  was  always  to  know  him.  Everybody  who 
knew  him  loved  him  with  such  sincere  devotion  that  his  praises  have 
come  in  volumes  from  loving  and  grateful  hearts,  and  I  find  it  difhcult  to 
know  what  is  left  for  my  pen. 

"Dr   Eaton  had  a  remarkably  rare  combination  of  gifts  and  elements 
of   character.     He   was   always   intensely  persistent  in   pursuit  of   any 
obiect  he  decided  to  attempt.     His  early  life,  eloquently  and  affection- 
ately described   by  others,    conspicuously   illustrates   what  pluck,   will, 
eneroy  and  the  corn-age  to  surmount  apparently  insurmountable  obstacles, 
can  do  for  the  boy,  laying  broad  and  deep,  and  firm  as  granite  the  touiv 
dations  of  the  character  of  the  man.      It  seemed  as  if  difficulty  ^^s  to 
him  but  'the  stimulus  to  exertion.'     One  of  the  chief  supports  of  this 
element  of  his  character  was  the  underlying  fact  that  he  never  attempted 
any  thing  unworthy  of  the  purest  ambition.     In  all  this  it  is  clear  that 
God  had  taken  the  poor  young  Horace  to  make  him  a  prince  and  a  noble 
in  the  court  of  the  King  of  kings, -the  only  King  to  whom  his  loyal 
heart  ever  paid  homage.     When  the  Lord  adopted  him  to  become  a  rare 
and  valiant  disciple,  to  illmuine  every  dark  place  where  sorrow  or  suf- 
ieL-  led  him,  his  soul  became  lighted  as  with  e  ectric  lights,  biungmg 
out  the  brilliants  of  a  nature  all  adorned  with  God-given  8--  of  rai-es 
histre.     He  came  as  near  being  a  man  with  a  <  conscience  void  of  offence 
lusue.     X  Vnown       To  great  talents  and  learning 

as  any  human  being  I  have  e\er  kno\^n.      ^^  j,  u^^  ,  ^^^ 

as  a  theologian,  and  a  classical  and  Mles-lettres  scholar  he  united  a  mod- 
esty so  swe^t  and  so  sincere,  that  nobody  felt  the  ^^  ^a^^W -"•  *^^ 
consciousness  that  he  was  absorbing  the  affections  o    all  about  him 

"His  dailv  life  was  the  farthest  remove  from  'the  pride  that  apes 
humility.'  lie  was  transparently  guileless.  He  had  large  learning,  but 
on  one  subject  great  ignorance.  He  never  learned  -^^^ ^Hi  h'pri 
essential  value.  Chief  of  saints,  he  might  at  times  have  ±elt  -  th  Pau 
that  he  was  chief  of  sinners.  Being  human,  he  must  have  had  faults 
but  I  never  had  the  time  or  opportunity  to  find  them.  I  do  not  use  the 
language  of  exaggeration:  I  know  that  what  I  say  of  him  can  only 
be  truiy  said  of  tLse  rare  and  precious  gems  Christ  has  prepared  with 
peculiar  care  to  shine  in  His  diadem.  But  the  dear  departed  was  in  truth 
one  of  these.     Self-sacrificing,  and  enduring  all  hardships,  he  would  go  on 


298  REV.   HORACE  EATON,  D.D. 

foot  in  storm  and  in  the  rigors  of  cold,  or  the  enervations  of  heat,  to  do 
his  Saviour's  business  in  a  way  as  noiseless  and  unseen  as  the  process  of 
germination  in  the  earth  beneath,  scattering  smiles  and  blessings  in 
abodes  which  but  for  him  and  his  Lord  knew  but  little  else  than  drear 
darkness.  In  these  lowly  places  the  gems  of  his  character  sparkled  with 
seraphic  splendor.  Aleet  him  after  such  toil  at  the  evening  twilight,  and 
say,  '  Brother  Eaton,  you  look  tired,  you  have  had  a  hard  day's  woi'k,' 
and  his  self-forgetfulness  even  then  instinctively  asserted  itself.  He 
would  probably  answer,  'Brother,  it  is  a  great  privilege  to  do  even  a 
little,  in  a  humble  way,  for  the  Lord.'  Bless  the  dear  man!  Hunger, 
cold,  weariness,  toilsome  struggles,  were  all  amply  compensated  and  for- 
gotten in  intense  absorption  of  his  daily  walks  with  God  and  for  God. 
There  was  no  crevice  anywhere  about  him  for  sham. 

"  As  a  preacher  he  was  a  godly  power.  A  consistent  and  persistent 
Presbyterian,  he  was  not  a  bigot.  His  practical  language  was  '■Homo 
sum;  humani  nihil  a  me  alienum puto'  (I  am  a  man,  and  nothing  pertain- 
ing to  man  is  indifferent  to  me).  I  venture  the  assertion  that  no  member 
of  any  church,  Roman  Catholic  or  Protestant,  ever  found  a  chilled  sym- 
pathy from  Dr.  Eaton  by  reason  of  creed.  His  great  heart  could  take  a 
fellow-being  in  its  warm  folds  without  stopping  to  ask  or  care  whence  he 
came,  so  only  that  the  heart's  visitor  needed  a  brother's  welcome.  As  I 
used  to  look  out  of  my  office,  and  see  the  dear,  good  man  in  his  daily 
walks,  I  felt  that  in  his  measure  he  Avent  about  doing  good,  as  did  the 
*  Son  of  man,'  '  God  manifest  in  the  flesh.''  Such  a  character  never  dies. 
It  exhales  that  subtle,  intangible,  unseen  but  potential  power  we  call 
influence.  .  .  .  Thankful  for  the  lesson  of  his  life,  I  reverence  his  memory 
as  a  priceless  treasui-e.  J.  D.  Husbaxds. 

"  Rochester,  X.Y.,  Oct.  30,  1883." 

From  Rev.  S.  M.  Campbell,  D.D.,  Minneapolis,  Minn.,  in  "  New  York 
Evangelist " :  — 

"  In  my  last  '  Evangelist '  I  read  with  deep  interest  the  elegant  tribute 
of  Hon.  J.  D.  Husbands  to  the  memory  of  Dr.  Eaton  of  Palmyra,  N.Y. 
"What  impresses  me  in  regard  to  all  these  men  is  their  goodness.  I  do 
not  mean  goodishness.  These  were  all  manly  men  ;  but  they  were  pre- 
eminently kind  and  loving  men.  And  Dr.  Eaton  was  one  of  the  best  in 
both  particulars.  No  man  had  stronger  convictions  than  he.  No  man 
was  ever  truer  to  such  convictions,  or  more  ready  to  avow  them.  But  he 
had  the  gift  to  do  all  that  without  making  enemies.  What  a  tribute  that 
was  to  his  worth  when  the  Roman  Catholic  priest  of  the  village  where  he 
died  told  liis  people  that  a  good  man  had  fallen,  and  that  they  would  all 
do  well  to  show  him  their  respect  by  attending  his  funeral !  .  .  .  Dr. 


RESOLUTIONS.  299 

Manning  of  the  Old  South  Church  of  Boston  was  nearly  sixty  years  old 
when  he  died.  Knox,  Weed,  Hatfield,  McColl,  and  Eaton  were  consid- 
erably older.  They  all  lived  to  full  age ;  and  this  world  is  the  poorer, 
and  the  better  world  is  the  brighter,  that  they  have  passed  away." 


RESOLUTIONS. 


At  a  meeting  of  the  session  of  the  Western  Presbyterian  Church  of 
Palmyra,  N.Y.,  held  Nov.  5,  1883,  the  following  minute  was  adopted,  and 
ordex'ed  to  be  recorded  :  — 

"  Whereas  it  has  pleased  the  Supreme  Disposer  of  events  to  call  from 
the  scenes  of  his  earthly  labors  the  Rev.  Horace  Eaton,  D.D.,  who  was  for 
thirty  years  the  pastor  of  this  church,  while  we  bow  with  resignation 
to  the  will  of  Him  who  doeth  all  things  well,  we  find  it  not  merely  a  duty, 
but  a  privilege,  to  record  our  sense  of  bereavement  in  the  loss  of  him  who 
had  so  long  and  so  nobly  filled  the  place  of  spiritual  guide  to  this  people ; 
a  loss,  great,  in  that  we  lose  his  eminently  valuable  counsel  in  the  affairs 
of  the  clnirch,  of  the  community,  and  of  ourselves  ;  great,  in  that  we  lose 
his  efficient  help  in  all  the  great  moral  movements  of  the  present  time  ; 
great,  in  that  we  lose  his  example,  so  pm-e,  so  peaceful,  so  lovely,  so  full 
of  all  the  Christian  graces ;  great,  in  that  we  lose  the  further  products  of 
such  scholarly  acquirements ;  great,  in  that  we  lose  the  further  products 
of  such  mental  powers;  great,  in  that  we  lose  the  prayers  of  one  who 
prayed  for  this  church  and  people  without  ceasing. 

"  We  would  record  our  gratitude  to  our  heavenly  Father  that  he  has 
so  long  permitted  us  —  and  the  wide  community  who  joined  with  us  at 
the  funeral  in  testifying  to  their  affection  for  this  '  father  in  Israel '  —  to 
enjoy  the  example,  the  teachings,  and  the  prayers  of  him  whose  death  we 
now  mourn.  We  are  also  grateful  that  we  are  shown  in  this  noble  life 
and  this  triumphant  death  that  to  be  a  faithful  follower  of  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ  makes  one  more  truly  great,  and  more  honored  among  men, 
than  any  mere  worldly  life.  We  are  also  grateful  that  in  this  life  and 
death  we  have  another  evidence  of  the  truth  of  the  scriptural  declaration, 
'  He  that  is  slow  to  anger  is  better  than  the  mighty,  and  he  that  ruleth  his 
spirit  greater  than  he  that  taketh  a  city,'  and  of  the  faithfulness  of  the 
promise,  '  If  a  man  love  me,  he  will  keep  my  words ;  and  my  Father  will 
love  him,  and  we  will  come  unto  him,  and  make  our  abode  with  him.' 

"  Wakrex  H.  Laxdon,  il/of/er«/or." 


300  REV.   IIOUACE   EATON,   D.D. 

A  Testimonial  of  Love  and  Ttcspect  for  the  late  Rev.  Horace  Eaton,  D.D., 

and  of  Sympathy  with  his  Family  :  — 

We  the  undersigned,  members  and  guests  of  the  Palmyra  Steamer 
and  Hose  Companies,  assembled  in  a  social  gathering,  which  was  ap- 
pointed long  before  the  illness  and  decease  of  our  beloved  friend,  the 
Rev.  Horace  Eaton,  D.D.,  feel  forcibly  that  his  death  is  every  one's  loss; 
and  remembering  with  gi-eat  gratitude  the  comforting  ministrations  he 
has  brought  to  so  many  of  our  families  in  times  of  similar  sorrow,  we 
wish  to  send  to  his  family  now  our  Jieartfelt  sympathy,  and  make  known 
to  them  that,  with  all  our  conniiunity,  we  share  in  their  grief. 

AVe  also  desire  to  bear  our  testimony  to  his  purity  of  life,  and  beauty 
of  character.  In  him  we  saw  the  ideal  Christian  man  and  pastor, — one 
without  a  moral  blemish.  Unselfish  to  a  fault,  his  heart  constantly  over- 
flowed with  benevolent  love  for  all  mankind.  To  his  neighbors  and 
fellow-creatures  of  all  degree  he  was  the  familiar,  sympathizing  friend, 
the  wise,  painstaking,  faithful  counselor,  and  in  conduct  the  noble 
exemplar.  Xone  could  know  liini  without  being  made  better  thereby. 
Beneficent  in  life,  blessed  shall  be  his  memory. 

Dated,  Firemen's  Hall,  Palmyra,  N.Y.,  Oct.  23,  1883. 

Officers. 
George  H.  Craxdall,  President.  W.  A.  Powers,  Ass't  Foreman. 

Edward  D.  Brkmiam,  Vice-President.     A.  P.  Seeley,  Foreman  Hose. 
H.  E.  Negus,  Treasurer.  George  Barron,  Ass't  Foreman. 

A.  D.  La.msox,  Secretary.  J.  C.  Coaxes,  Drill  Master. 

E.  B.  Anderson,  Foreman  Steamer. 

Memueus. 

T.  W.  Ilicks.  A.  M.  Beadle.  Euijcnc  Conant.  R.  T.  Webster. 

F.  L.  Williams.  E.  W.  Tappenden.    G.  L).  Williamson.  N.  R.  Gardner. 
Kelson  G.  Drake.  J.  E.  Scofield.           E.  J.  Hall.  G.  W.  Bennett. 
C.  W.  Powers.  H.  N.  Harmon.         Charles  Lyon.  AV.  B.  Pulver. 
A.  T.  Foskett.  D.  E.  Lyon.          ■     E.  S.  Lewis.  Isaac  Sanford. 

W.  H.  Bowman,  2d.  George  L.  Clark.      LaRue  Olvitt.  George  G.  Throop. 

Frank  11.  Brown.     F.  S.  Herbert.  John  Griffin. 

Honorary  Members  and  Guests. 

Pliny  T.  Sexton.  E.  S.  Averill.  L.  D.  Trowbridge.    Wright  Gardner. 

Johii  G.  Webster.  F.  C.  Brown.  Selnier  E.  Braman.W.  E.  Clark. 

George  MeCiown.  Henry  R.  Durfce.  Mark  C.  Finlcy.       J.  Edgar,  Jr. 

W.  H.  IJunip.  S.  W.  Sawyer.  Oliver  Durfee.  Gifford  II.  Post. 

C.  B.  Bowman.  S.  E.  Harkness.  Hiram  G.  Chirk.       Don  Lncava. 

Lyman  Lyon.  R.  L.  Leland.  W.  11.  H.  Osborne.  F.  T.  Jones. 

C.  D.  Johnson.  C.  H.  Brighain.  Henry  A.  Chase.      John  Copin. 

J.  W.  Taylor.  C.  E.  Major.  i.  C.  G.  Crandell.     S.  Nelson  Sawyer. 


RESOL  UTIONS.  301 

Palmyra  Lodge  of  Good  Templars.  — In  Memoriam :  — 

"Through  the  interposition  of  Divine  Providence  the  shadows  have 
fallen ;  once  moi-e  the  cup  of  enjoyment  is  made  to  overflow  witli  the 
bitter  waters  of  Marah  ;  once  more  death  has  invaded  our  circle,  and 
removed  from  our  midst  our  well-beloved  brother,  ay !  our  father,  — 
Rev.  Horace  Eaton.  In  the  evening  of  life,  in  the  abundance  of  useful- 
ness, he  has  been  called  to  lay  aside  his  armor,  and  rest  from  his  labors. 
One  of  the  charter  members  of  our  Order,  associated  with  us  for  sixteen 
years  in  mutual  friendship,  attending  meetings  when  pastoral  duties  and 
health  permitted,  we  as  a  Lodge  desire  to  express  our  respect  for  his 
memory,  and  record  our  ajjpreciation  of  his  merits,  consistent  and  exem- 
plary life.  Underlying  his  unassuming  deportment  was  a  firm  conviction 
of  duty  which  characterized  his  whole  being.  In  devotion  to  the  interests 
of  religion  and  the  cause  of  humanity  he  has  left  an  imperishable  monu- 
ment in  the  hearts  of  all  who  knew  him  :  therefore 

^^  Resolved,  That  as  an  Order  we  realize  the  loss  in  the  death  of  our 
brother  of  an  effective  co-worker  in  the  cause  of  temperance,  ever  ready 
with  assistance  and  sympathy. 

"Resolved,  That  we  sincerely  sympathize  with  the  family  and  friends 
of  our  deceased  brother,  earnestly  recommending  them  to  Him  who 
knoweth  all  their  sorrow. 

"Resolved,  That  as  a  tribute  of  resjiect  our  Charter  be  draped  in 
mourning,  and  the  above  resolutions  be  spread  upon  the  record  of  our 
Lodge,  and  a  copy  presented  to  the  family  of  our  deceased  brother." 

Action  of  the  Presbytery  of  Lyons  :  — 

The  committee  appointed  to  prepare  a  minute  on  the  death  of  Dr. 
Eaton  reported  the  following,  which  w-as  adopted  :  — 

"  A  Memohial  Minute. 

"Rev.  Horace  Eaton,  D.D.,  the  senior  member  of  this  Presbytery,  died 
at  his  home  in  Palmyra,  after  a  brief  illness,  Oct.  21,  1883.  lie  had  been 
a  member  of  this  body  from  its  organization  in  1857,  and  had  been  its 
]\Ioderator  several  times.  Since  the  re-union  in  1869  he  had  served  the 
Presbytery  efficiently  as  its  Committee  on  Home  JNIissions.  He  repre- 
sented the  body  as  Commissioner  to  General  Assembly  in  1861,  1870,  and 
1880,  and  held  the  position  of  Commissioner  to  Auburn  Theological  Semi- 
nary three  full  terms,  having  been  elected  for  the  fourth  term  at  its  last 
meeting. 

"  Dr.  Eaton  had  long  been  venerated  as  one  of  the  fathers  of  this 
Presbytery  and  of  the  younger  men  in  its  niembersliip;  and  many  remain 


302  REV.   HORACE   EATON,    D.D. 

to  testify  tliat  ho  ^vas  a  remarkable  counsellor,  —  cautious,  considerate, 
■wise,  and  kind. 

"  He  was  universally  known  among  us  as  the  friend  of  the  feeble 
churches,  and  carried  them  always  in  his  heart  and  prayers  and  sympa- 
thies. As  a  preacher  he  was  affectionate,  earnest,  and  direct.  lie  made 
Christ,  the  Saviour  of  men,  the  centre  of  his  theology  and  of  his  sermons, 
as  well  as  of  his  life. 

"  lie  had  a  great  heart,  Avhich  took  in  all  the  world,  giving  the  home 
and  foreign  interests  of  Christ's  kingdom  an  abiding-place  in  his  warm 
and  consecrated  ministry. 

"In  all  his  relations  to  this  Presbytery  he  was  venerated  and  loved; 
and  now,  that  in  the  fulness  of  time  he  has  been  called  to  his  reward,  his 
labor  done,  we  make  this  record  of  his  worth  and  the  love  we  bear  to  his 
honored  memory. 

A.  Pai;ki:  Burgess,       '^ 
W.  II.  Laxdon,  I 

William  L.  Page,  f  ^'"'»»"''^^- 

William  K.  Johnson,  J 

"  Done  in  Presbytery  at  Newark,  N.Y.,  Dec.  3,  188;?. 

"  II.  M.  Clark,  ^'Za^e(/ CYer^-.  William  II.  Bates,  J/or/era/or." 

Chi  Alpha  ^Memorial  Tribute,  New  York  City,  Oct.  27,  1883:  — 

"  Foi'ty  years  ago  this  circle  welcomed  to  its  confidence  and  fellowship 
a  brother  beloved,  who  has  just  entered  into  rest.  .   .  . 

"  His  struggles  for  self-support  while  getting  an  education  gave 
muscle  to  his  character  and  enlargement  to  his  usefulness  in  all  his 
after-life.  He  was  naturally  modest  and  unassuming,  conceding  to 
his  brethren  the  highest  places  and  honors  ;  but,  where  a  fundamental 
doctrine  or  pi-inciple  was  at  stake,  lie  was  bold  as  a  lion,  and  firm  as 
his  own  native  granite.  The  cordial  manner  with  which  he  received 
the  young  pastor  who  became  his  successor  in  Palmyra,  together  with 
the  constant  fatherly  sujiport  and  encouragement  he  gave  him,  are 
worthy  of  all  praise.  In  his  s^iirit  there  was  no  guile  :  frank,  sincere, 
and  honest  as  the  little  child.  His  Christian  sympathies  were  always 
fresh  as  a  mountain  spring:  hence  liis  presence  was  more  than  wel- 
comed at  the  bedside  of  the  sick  and  dying,  and  at  the  burial  of  the 
dead.  He  was  noted  for  what  the  old  divines  called  spiritual-minded- 
ness.  God  and  His  law.  His  word.  His  worship,  and  His  service  were 
always  first  in  his  affections.  To  honor  Him,  to  live  and  preach  His  gos- 
pel, and  save  the  souls  Christ  died  to  redeem,  was  his  highest  ambition 
anil  aim.     Zealous  and  generous  himself  in  his  blaster's  work,  he  longed 


MURAL    TABLET.  303 

and  labore;!  to  make  others  like-minded.  Nor  did  he  labor  in  vain.  His 
was  a  successful  ministry.  Both  the  dead  and  the  living  speak  of  the 
good  he  did  them  and  through  them.  The  churches  and  communities  he 
served  so  long  and  so  well  will  long  hold  him  in  grateful  and  affectionate 
remembrance.  And  now,  as  we  gather  up  these  memories  of  our  con- 
fiding, loving,  and  beloved  brother,  we  feel  some  as  Elisha  did  when, 
gathering  up  Elijah's  mantle,  and  looking  after  him  into  heaven,  he 
cried,  'My  father,  my  father,  the  chariot  of  Israel  and  the  horsemen 
thereof ! ' 

'•  The  Cln-istian  sympathy  and  heartfelt  condolence  of  Chi  Alpha  are 
tendered  Mrs.  Eaton  and  her  family. 

"  E.  A.  Reed,  Secretary  of  X  A." 


MURAL    TABLET. 


From  the  "  New  York  Evangelist "  :  — 

"  Paljiyra.  —  On  Sabbath  morning,  Oct.  19,  1884,  we  held  a  very 
interesting  and  impressive  service.  It  was  the  first  anniversary  of  the 
death  of  the  Rev.  Dr.  Eaton,  who  was  the  well-known  pastor  of  this 
church  from  1849  to  1879.  The  Young  People's  Society  of  Christian 
Endeavor  had  just  erected  in  the  church,  to  his  memory,  a  beautiful  memo- 
rial tablet.  The  Methodists  and  Baptists,  of  their  own  accord,  came  in 
to  participate  in  this  service,  making  a  congregation  of  nearly  a  thousand 
people.  The  original  company  of  Jubilee  Singers  from  Fisk  University, 
who  have  been  spending  some  weeks  among  us,  practising  and  preparing 
for  their  winter's  work,  furnished  the  music.  It  is  contrary  to  their  cus- 
tom to  sing  in  the  churches  on  the  Sabbath ;  but  they  consented  on  this 
occasion  on  account  of  Dr.  Eaton's  lifelong  interest  in  their  race.  They 
sang  with  wonderful  pathos  three  selections  from  Gospel  Hymns,  '  It  is 
well  with  my  soul,'  '  Gathering  Home,'  and  'The  Sweet  By-and-by.'  The 
exercises  commenced,  as  usual,  with  Scripture  and  prayer.  A  short 
address  was  made  by  Mr.  George  S.  Johnson,  one  of  the  young  men,  the 
youngest  elder  in  the  church.  It  was  able,  touching,  and  impressive,  and 
ought  not  soon  to  be  forgotten  by  the  many  young  people  who  were  pres- 
ent. At  the  close  of  his  address,  the  tablet  was  unveiled,  and  in  behaK 
of  the  young  people  he  formally  presented  it  to  the  church.  It  is  of 
beautiful  Italian  marble,  and  bears  this  inscription:  — 


304  REV.   HORACE   EATON,   D.D. 

REV. 
V\OU^CE  EATON,   oq 

OUR    PASTOR. 

1849    1879. 

DIED 
OCT,    21,   1883. 


BLESSED  ARE  THE  DEAD  THAT  DIE  IN 
THE  LORD  FROM  HENCEFORTH  :  YEA, 
SAITH  THE  SPIRIT,  THAT  THEY  MAY 
REST  FROM  THEIR  LABORS  ;  AND 
THEIR    WORKS    DO    FOLLOW    THEM. 

Rev.  xiv.   13 


"  Short  responsive  addresses  in  behalf  of  the  church  and  congregation 
were  made  by  Henry  R.  Durfee,  Esq.,  and  Elder  Franklin  Williams. 
Their  interesting  and  appropriate  remarks  made  a  deep  impression  upon 
the  congregation.  After  a  few  words  by  the  pastor,  Deacon  M.  B.  Rigga 
offered  prayer,  and  the  service  was  brought  to  a  close.  It  is  touching  and 
encouraging  to  see  the  interest  all  this  community  take  in  any  thing  con- 
nected with  the  history  of  this  honored  but  humble  man  of  God. 

"W.  H.  Laxdon." 

On  the  day  previous  to  this  Sabbath,  loving  hands  covered  Dr.  Eaton's 
grave  with  beautiful  flowers  ;  and  during  the  memorial  service  at  the 
church  on  the  Sabbath  the  pastor  read  the  following  anniversary  elegy, 
written  by  Rev.  W.  W.  Runyan  :  — 

"BESIDE   HIS   GRAVE."     For  Oct.  24,  1884. 
Rev.  Horace  Eaton,  D.D.     Died  Oct.  21,  1883. 

Time's  twelvemonth  retinue,  in  solemn  train, 
(How  like  a  cortege  on  its  graveyard  way !) 

Hath  borne  the  sear  October  round  again, 
With  thronging  memories  of  its  saddest  day. 

Here  paused  the  cortege.     Here  the  mortal  form 

By  tender  liands  was  lowly  laid  to  rest, 
Where  nevermore  Time's  rude,  relentless  storm 

May  smite  the  brow,  or  chill  the  guileless  breast. 


ANNIVERSARY  ELEGY.  305 

All,  how  beloved  was  he,  and  how  revered ! 

How  he  did  knit  our  liearts  to  him  in  love' 
Is  he  less  honored  now,  or  less  endeared  ? 

Is  he  less  worthy  since  he  lives  above  ? 

A  year  of  sainthood  where  the  seraphs  sing  • 

No  idle  year  of  slumber  in  a  tomb. 
Full  free  from  world  to  world  his  flight  to  wing, 

How  could  he  choose  to  bide  the  charnel  gloom  ? 

Methinks  I  see  him  in  his  angel  youth. 

Where  Time  is  not,  and  bells  do  ne^er  knoll, 
New  forms  of  beauty  and  new  lines  of  truth 

Fresh  sculptured  on  his  pure  and  stainless  soul. 

As  shepherds  kind,  in  deserts  bleak  and  cold. 

Call  long  and  loudlv  to  the  sheep  that  roam, 
So  did  this  pastor  watcn  his  ilouk  and  fold, 

And  woo  the  wanderer  to  his  distant  home. 

Once,  'mid  these  hills,  these  vales,  and  verdant  glades, 

He  faithful  toiled  the  weary  years  along ; 
But  requiems  now  breathe  through  the  whispering  shades, 

From  nodding  reeds  and  insects'  vesper-song. 

While  rustling  foliage  and  the  ripened  grass, 

With  billowy  tributes  pile  his  bed  of  clay, 
His  feet,  enfranchised,  tread  the  Sea  of  Glass ; 

His  eyes,  anointed,  drink  the  perfect  day. 

We  call  him  dead.     We  deck  the  sod  with  flowers, 
And  dewy  Night  o'erweeps  them,  for  they  die ; 

But  he  would  chide  this  halting  faith  of  ours  : 
He  lives  in  memory,  and  he  lives  on  high. 

O  sainted  pastor,  from  thy  realm  serene 

Dost  thou  not  hover  o'er  the  flock  beneath  ? 
Dost  thou  not  bend  above  this  pious  scene, 

And  yearn  to  tell  us  that  there  is  no  death  ? 

So  sang  a  poet  once,  "There  is  no  death  "; 

And  such  sweet  song  might  soothe  a  mourner's  cry; 
For  One  diviner  than  the  poet  saith, 

"  Believe  in  me,  and  ye  shall  never  die  ! " 


306  REV.   HORACE  EATON,   D.D. 

'lis  well  wo  ponder  near  liis  narrow  house. 
That  earth's  careers  all  gravitate  to  dust. 

But  better  far  that  we  renew  our  vows 
To  live,  like  his,  a  life  of  holy  trust. 


THE   END. 


PRESSWORK  BY  BERWICK  i.  SMITH,   BOSTON. 


